Comes Before the Fall xNot All Princes Are Nicex
by InChrist-Billios
Summary: COMPLETE: A stand alone prequel to Not All Surprises Are Pleasant, with some guest writing from Cimh. See Gloria, Jared Tiroe, and Thomas as kids: an adventurous, competitive girl with her best friend, and a gorgeous, arrogant prince.
1. Chapter 1

**Tada! Here is a completely unprecedented story, co-written by myself and **Cimh**. It's rather lighthearted, due to **Cimh**'s influence. I'm writing Thomas' stuff, and she's writing about Jared and Gloria. For reference, Gloria is Nre's mother, Jared is Carvin's father, and Thomas is Nre's father.**

**You won't have to have read Nasap to read this, though. It's definitely a stand-alone.**

Hehe, my friend finally decided to do something about my moaning and groaning that I couldn't write. I still don't think I write very well, but she seems to think it's good enough to "publish", so there you have it ... Please be nice, I don't like fire! Or is the term flames ... Lol I know that they're flames, I was just kidding ..._  
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_Thomas Daniel Alphonse Samuel Windham, Crown Prince of Berensia. A title almost worthy of me._

The boy walked slowly down the length of his bedchamber, strong hands clasped firmly behind his back. His navy blue, satin pants swished with every step, and his black, polished boots whooshed gently in the soft carpet.

Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, _click._

He stepped off the carpet onto the hardwood paneling. Every click echoed several times around the deathly silent, lavishly decorated room. Everything in his room was midnight blue and gold, a striking combination of utter darkness and wealthy light.

Thomas loved it.

As he paced, he thought about his favorite subject. Himself. He had recently been to town to make a speech. His father insisted on him going out in public so the people would know his face. Not that Thomas objected; he loved the heartbroken looks on the girl's faces as he passed and basked in the compliments he overheard the lords whispering to each other.

"Quite a handsome boy!"

"Quite! And such a gift for speech!"

"The people love him."

"The _girls_ love him, at any rate."

"I hope he knows his place..."

"I'm sure he does, he's got a steady head on his shoulders."

"Too true, too true. He'll make a fine king."

"Aye, that he will."

The prince paused in front of a mirror and surveyed his reflection. Loose brown curls fell in a roguish manner over his ears and down the back of his neck, reflecting the sunlight warmly. He had a strong jaw that gave him a look of natural stubborness and determination and a firm nose. His perfect mouth curved into a smile and his fascinating blue eyes reflected an aire of innocence and trust.

Oh, Thomas did trust. He trusted in himself, and in the fact that no girl could resist him if he wanted to woo her. Such a commanding responsibilty for a fourteen year old boy, but he would manage somehow.

He grinned.

He always did.

* * *

"Go Sandy, go!" shouted fair-haired Gloria. "We've almost caught up with Jared!"

"Not for long, you haven't!" cried Jared, shaking his dark hair out of his eyes and encouraging his horse, Judy, to go faster.

For a while all that could be heard was the thumping of hooves and an occasional whinny from one of the horses, and then ... "Haha!" came the triumphant cry of Gloria as Sandy pushed in from just in time to pass the tree stump that marked the finish of the race. They both slowed to a walk, the horses breathing heavily, and headed to a nearby pond to give the horses a well earned drink.

"I believe that was one of our better races," commented Gloria, adjusting her skirts.

"It was definitely close," agreed Jared. "Here, let me help you," he said, dismounting and offering Gloria his hand.

"Thank you," she said, accepting his hand and sliding off her horse.

"For a while you thought you were going to win, didn't you?" Gloria asked, guiding Sandy to the pond.

"Well, yes, but are you trying to tell me that you _knew_ you were going to pull ahead at the absolute last second?" Jared answered her question with one of his own. Both were trying to conceal their grins.

"Oh, I always knew Sandy was stronger. She found the strength to pull ahead of Judy, at any rate." Gloria turned around, took one look at Jared, and they both burst out laughing.

"That was great!" Jared gasped through his mirth.

"Wasn't it though? I couldn't kept it going for longer if I hadn't looked at you. You just had this look on your face, I couldn't help it!" Gloria giggled. "You've always been able to make me laugh, you know, even when we were little. Remember?"

"How could I forget! You coming outside looking all frumpy, just because your Father told you that you had to spend more time working on your sampler and less time at the stable. You would've thought that he told you that you were never allowed to ride again! But all I had to do was look at you _just so_, and you'd be laughing fit to burst!"

"Gloria!"

Gloria's neck snapped up and she made a face.

"That's Jennifer, drat it, I better go."

"Have fun!" Jared called as she mounted Sandy and began to trot back to her house.

She stuck her tongue out at him over her shoulder as he waved brightly, a teasing smile lingering in his eyes.

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**Final word count: 754 **

**Please review! I hope you like it! **

Yea, please review, but be nice! Unless there's really something wrong, then don't lie, but ...**  
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	2. Chapter 2

**Another chapter! --laugh-- have I mentioned I love Thomas? I have so much fun writing him. --wicked smile--**

**Oh yeah, disclaimer.**

**The Fairy tale that we are going to spin off doesn't belong to us.**

Yes yes, another chapter ... How she can nag me to do something when hers isn't properly finished is beyond me, but, what can I say, she's the more experienced one ... Please review, it helps a lot:)

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"Gloria, Gloria, how many times must I remind you?" Jethro sighed. "You're a noble. Nobles don't simply race because they can and want to, especially not in clothes like the ones you're wearing! Planned races are one thing, when you have the correct clothes on at least! But to simply race across a field just because you can is ... is ... quite inappropriate!" 

Gloria tried to stay silent and still while her father lectured, simply because if she fidgeted, her father would think that she was not paying attention, which would bring forth yet another lecture ... It made her sleepy just thinking about it!

"Gloria, are you paying attention to me?"

Her father's voice came crashing through her thoughts like a charging racehorse, scattering her thoughts.

"Yes Father, of course. I will attempt to limit my racing to scheduled races and will try to remember that I am a noble and must behave accordingly."

"It appears your mind drifted before I spoke of the invitation, then."

"Invitation? What invitation?" Gloria's mind was now firmly focused on her father.

"Maybe, since you seem uninterested, I'll simply give it to Helen. It does not specify who is to come. I merely thought that, being the eldest, you would appreciate it more. However ..."

The words were hardly out of his mouth when she began insisting that her mind had only wandered briefly and could she please see the invitation?

"Alright, alright, here it is."

Jethro pulled an envelope out of his cloak and handed it to her. Gloria opened the envelope and wrenched out the letter, almost tearing it in her haste. Smoothing the paper out on the table, she read the parchment with growing excitement.

_Dear Lords and Ladies of Berensia:_

_We are pleased to inform you _

_that the Annual Berensian Royalty Ball will be held on September 10th at the Palace. _

_Please present yourself at the Palace gates by no later than 6:15._

_If you have a child above the age of 12, he or she is most welcome._

_Please only bring one child._

"Oh Father, isn't this grand? A ball, and we have an invitation! Could I please please go? Please please please?"

Jethro chuckled. Gloria was normally persistent, but so many 'please'es was unusual even for her.

"Your mother and I will have to discuss it," was his only answer for the moment. Yes, there would be some real discussion going on between himself and Angelina.

* * *

"Soleil, sit properly," Queen Savannah reprimanded. 

The ten year old slid sulkily off her knees and kept eating, stabbing her food with a vengeance.

"Just wait'll I get bigger," she murmured, glaring around the table at the other three occupants who, used to this behavior, ignored her quite effectively.

Soleil was a black haired, pale skinned child, not radiant like other vibrant children her age, but giving off a womanly glow that made everyone stare. She was not beautiful as much as striking, with her soft black hair, almost transparent pale skin, high cheekbones, and impossibly dark eyes. Savannah also had black hair and dark eyes, but the effect was not quite so attention-drawing on her rosy skin as it was on Soleil.

"Who did you invite to the ball, Father?" Thomas asked, biting down on a large sausage and half-listening to his father's reply.

"The dukes and lords of Berensia with their children, of course, and also the royal families of Molln, Trule, Grendath, and Liot. Of the nobles that would be, let me see; the Bradshaws, Sulleys, Tiroes, Willets, Thompsons, Bennets, Monterios... oh and all the rest. Savannah?"

Savannah shrugged.

"Too many people to properly remember."

"But there will be plenty of lovely ladies present, make no mistake," the king said to his son with a wink.

Thomas smiled back after swallowing his sausage.

Of course there would be lovely ladies, half of them uninvited to be sure, just coming to get a look at him. He knew this ball had long since been a place for the advisors and the king to find suitable matches for their offspring, and he was fine with that. He had the difficult job of finding a girl to be beautiful enough to stand beside him and complement his own beauty.

So much was asked of him.

He stood up and inclined his head to his family before striding out the door.

"Sire, you have a fitting for new outfits for the ball in ten minutes," Tyvome, a middle-aged man, said as he walked to keep pace with Thomas. He had apparently been waiting for the youth's exit.

"Why was I not informed of this earlier?" Thomas asked irritably, not looking at the man.

"My apologies, sire, but I told you of your fitting last week, yesterday afternoon, and again this morning."

"I do not remember that at all. Cancel the fitting, I have not time now."

"Of course, sire," Tyvome said, bowing and turning down the corridor to the left. Oh, by jove, if that boy didn't come to a fitting before the ball his clothes would not fit and he would be punished severely!

Tyvome worried his lip and strode faster along the hall until he came to the tailor's chamber.

"No luck?" the tailor asked with a sigh, laying down an expensive tunic, embroidered with silver thread and decorated with silver buttons down the left side.

"No luck," Tyvome agreed, sitting on a chair that lay vacant and scratching his goatee. "But by jove, I swear I will get him in here if I have to drag him in by his ear and get fired for it afterward. Getting fired will be better than the punishment I'd receive for _not_ getting him in here."

"Unfortunately, I must concur with the statement," the tailor said grimly. "His Royal Arrogance would have his way with both of us if his clothes didn't fit properly."

They shared a humorless laugh over the Prince's title.

"Tomorrow then, sometime in the morning, I shall get him in here. One way or another."

"Good luck."

"Thank you, David."

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**So, you're going to review, right?**

What is it this time, a 12-pack of your favorite soda if you review?


	3. Chapter 3

**There's only a measly shred of Thomas in here, because he wasn't cooperating. He's gotten himself in a royal temper and is sulking somewhere in a hidden corner of my mind. --futile attempts to drag Thomas out--**

Hope you like it! The ball's going to be in the next chapter, don't get too impatient ...**  
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"Emma, why must we cover up my freckles? Everybody says that they're cute, and so do I. I see no reason to cover them up." 

Gloria Monterio was in her dressing room with her handmaiden, Emma. Sighing, Emma tried to reason with Gloria.

"Miss, Lady Angelina has explained this to you already. Your aim for this ball is to look mature, not 'cute', so as to impress Prince Thomas."

"Yes, but I want him to like me for being me, and I like my freckles. If you're going to cover them up, then I'll talk to mother and see what she thinks about my reasoning."

"Then you better go get your mother dear, because my instructions were to give you a clear complexion for the ball tonight."

"Alright. I'll be back in a few minutes. Please pick out a few dresses that you think will be suitable for me to look over once I return."

"Alright, now go find your mother so we can get this over with!"

Emma watched the noble leave, shaking her head as she walked into the closet. Gloria was a stubborn one alright, but why couldn't she simply listen to her parents? Horseback riding was her favorite thing to do, especially when it involved racing Jared Tiroe. Speaking of which …

Emma was jerked out of her reverie by pounding footsteps in the hall. Turing around, she saw Jared coming into Gloria's room.

"Hey, what do you think you're doing? This is a lady's room!"

"Woops. Oh, hello Emma, I was afraid it was Lady Monterio. She would have had my head for forgetting. Do you know where Gloria is? I wanted to ask her what she's wearing to the ball tonight. It's been the only thing she's talked about for ages! I hope it will be good enough for His Royal Painfulness. She's extremely pretty, even if she denies it, but there's not telling what kind of mood the Prince is going to be in tonight."

Emma smiled. Kids these days, they were so excited about balls. In the older days, balls happened so often that the children made up excuses to try to get _out_ of them!

"Gloria's gone to convince her mother to let her keep her freckles for the ball. I've tried to tell her that we're going for mature and not cute, for the Prince of course, but she simply won't have it. Now you better scat, because it's likely that the Mistress will come back with Gloria, and as you said, she'll have your head if you don't come in _with_ them. Which means go find them, come in with them, and then help make Gloria beautiful enough for 'His Royal Painfulness'. Off you go, then!"

Emma had just turned back to her work when a flash of gold caught her eye. Pushing Gloria's many dresses aside, she gasped. She had completely forgotten about this dress! Grinning, she pulled it out and laid the pale gold dress on the bed. Although she was certain that Gloria would love to wear the special ball gown, she pulled out her shimmery green dress and her favorite gown, the one that was red with gold stars on it. Satisfied with her choices, she returned to the closet to pick shoes to go with the gowns.

A few minutes later, sounds of a 'heated discussion' reached her ears. Sighing, Emma continued with her work. She was now selecting jewelry to go with each gown for Gloria and Angelina to contemplate.

"Gloria, we are attempting for you to look mature for the ball, not cute! I really thought you would have been past this stage by now. Cute was one thing when you were ten and eleven, but you are fourteen years old!"

"Yes Mother, but I like my freckles and I want Prince Thomas to accept me for who I am! If I had true faults that would be one thing, but they're part of me, part of who I am! Besides, I don't really think he's as bad as everyone makes him sounds. Jared is adamant in his belief that he's a royal pain, and arrogant to boot."

Angelina sighed.

"We have no way of knowing this, simply because we have not been in his company when things have not gone his way. We don't know how he reacts to situations like that. Now, no more discussion. Your freckles will be lightened. _Lightened_, not covered up. They're somewhat unsightly, but you're right. They are rather becoming, just not so ... Obvious. They should be lightened. Now don't complain," Angelina added, holding up her hand to stem the flow of arguments that she was sure would come.

"I wasn't planning on it," said Gloria with a mock-offended look. "I was going to say thank you, I was going to lighten them a bit anyway if you let me keep them. Now come on! I want to see what Emma has chosen for me to wear."

Angelina shook her head. Gloria was truly unpredictable at times.

* * *

"This is the wrong color," Thomas said flatly. 

He tugged on the corner of the doublet as if contemplating whether or not to just rip it off.

"Sire, you said – "

"I am perfectly aware of what I said, tailor; I said midnight blue. Because you obviously are too thickheaded to know what that means, I'll explain further. Midnight blue is a blue that is almost black, not navy blue, which is what you have given me here. Navy clashes with my eye color. Midnight blue enhances it. Make me another doublet."

"Sire, I do not have enough time to make you a doublet now – the ball is tonight! If you had only come to your fitting yesterday – "

"Your incessant nagging bores me," Thomas said, gesturing Tyvome over to undo the clasps. "I do not care how you do it, but make me a midnight blue doublet in time for the ball."

Tyvome handed the doublet carefully to David and Thomas buckled his brown doublet back on. He began to leave the room, but he turned back around before he left.

"Oh, and I want dragons on the clasps, not horses. There are horse clasps on my scarlet doublet."

Then he strode from the room, walking toward the stables. Servants holding over-filled trays bobbed curtsies and bows as he passed, but he ignored them, focusing on the ball that evening. There were sure to be many pretty girls his age, as there were last year, but they were a year older now, so hopefully less bothersome. Giggling can only be tolerated for so long unless they are giggling at your handsomeness. Then, well, it can be stood for a bit longer. All he had to do was charm them with a smile and a choice word or two and they were his; any girl was his.

He only wished he really wanted a girl, because that would make it all the more fun. But alas, he didn't really feel the need for a girl quite yet, so he honed his skills in preparation for that day.

He'd learned much about womenkind through the years. He learned that it can be easily deduced what action to take to charm a girl based mostly on her basic actions. For example, a giggling, blushing girl would swoon over a brilliant smile, whereas a quieter, shy girl would melt at a grin and a raised eyebrow. It was a careful science.

He reached the stables in quite a good mood, walking up the aisle between the horses' stalls. Betty was there, with his horse saddled and bridled, as usual.

"Thanks love," he said, flashing a smile at her and taking the reigns, careful to brush her hand.

She blushed and smiled back.

"You're welcome as always, sire."

He pulled himself onto the sleek, black mare and rode off.

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**Review! We'll give you cream puffs!**

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	4. Chapter 4

**At long last, I dragged Thomas out from where he was skulking and got a bit more out of him. So, here's the ball!**

_I shall have you all know that I had _my _part of this chapter written ages ago. Billi here, however, has been ... preoccupied would be my guess, and seems to have forgotten until tonight. So, finally, here's the chapter! --glares in Billi's direction--_

* * *

Thomas sat on his throne, idly drumming his fingers as he watched the ladies enter the ballroom with family or in small groups. His chilling gaze flickered over familiar faces and new ones alike, keeping a running list of incompetencies in his head.

_Lady Marghetta, oh, she's gained quite a bit of weight since last year. That dress doesn't fit her well at all, either; she should have a more flattering cut. Perhaps even a different color, that maroon brings out the unsightly ruddy complexion of her face._

_And Maid Fiona, charming as usual with her elegant smile in my direction, but her red hair clashes with that shade of pink. How could she not notice? Abominable. Her maids obviously have no fashion sense. Pity her mother died and took that with her._

_Young Duchess Georgianalee of the long name, yes, I remember her. She was quite taken with Lord Devon last time. A waste of her beauty, that one. She cut her hair too, interesting. It curls nicely about her shoulders. Unpleasantly shy, though. Can't hold a conversation for more than three minutes._

_A lady I do not know, hm. Pretty enough, I suppose, though with such stature, she needn't wear those monstrosities of heels. She looks positively giant-like. No man right in the head would want to dance with her and be dwarfed. She laughs far too loudly, as well. I can hear her all the way over here. Goodness me, no._

_Speaking of giants, Maid Orpha, I see. Grown another foot all the way around. Good gracious, if you're so large, must you wear bright red? She's drawing all the gazes of the men, of course. Social butterfly, or rather, whale. Aha, a wink. My first one of the evening. Cheers, Maid Orca._

_Another one I don't know. A golden dress? How bold. She glitters horrendously; I think I'll be seeing spots all evening. It washes out her complexion, also. She looks ill, almost yellow. Not terrible in looks. A bit too rounded to consider, though, and too tall. We must stand within an inch of each other. No, no._

_Maid Marissa in her trademark emerald. Has she no other dress, I wonder? They must have been letting it out for three years. Not that she has grown overmuch. The same wide smile and a wink. Two in five minutes. Tonight might go well after all. And if Marissa has arrived that means..._

_There is Lady Alexis, of course. A white gown tonight, interesting choice. One of the few here who could pull off the color without looking like a ghost or a browned peasant. Nose too big though, and horsey teeth. Pity. Oh no, you don't have to smile, that's quite alright, thank you all the same._

_And Maid Angela right behind, I might have guessed. She looks like a skeleton, has she been eating at all? Oh yes, she has been ill, I remember. The thinness does nothing for her already bony frame. Hideous. She shouldn't have come._

The fragile girl was the last to enter the room, so Thomas stood to address the room at large.

"My fine ladies and noblemen," he began, smiling so convincingly that it almost reached his eyes, "I am honored at your presence here this evening. I recognize many of you, though several have come with bright new faces. I hope to meet all of you I do not know, and restore old friendships with those I hold most dear, in the course of this glorious evening. I trust you all will enjoy yourselves during this, the Annual Berensian Royalty Ball in the 19th year of good King Hamilton's reign!"

The crowd of finely dressed people clapped politely, then began talking among themselves as music began to ring throughout the room. Thomas held out his arm for Soleil to accept as his parents began toward the dance floor. Soleil, in a dark mood as always, tucked her arm about his and walked in measured stride with him four paces behind the royal couple.

"I hate balls," she said vehemently, loud enough for only him to hear.

They began to dance.

"But you must endure them," Thomas replied, equally soft, "so you might as well enjoy them. Come now, put a smile on the strikingly beautiful face of yours or people will think I am malodorous."

The ten year old didn't even smile.

"Selfish pig," she retorted, expression souring further.

Thomas shook his head; the slight smile that seemed always to be resting there when he was in public widened.

"You are too young to know what you speak of."

"I'm old enough to know that you don't care about anyone but yourself," she snapped.

"Soleil, dear, really," he placated, "can we discuss this at a more opportune time?"

"When all your adoring subjects aren't watching?" Soleil sneered contemptuously. "And don't call me dear. If you give me a pet name, you might grow attached to me, heaven forbid."

"Soleil," he said warningly.

She glared.

"You know it's true. I don't know why you don't just disown me."

"Because you're beautiful, and once you sweeten up a touch, we'll be a lovely pair. Besides, royalty are supposed to be loving and friendly toward their family at all times. It would be nothing short of a scandal, and that would mar my otherwise untarnished reputation."

"Well, I hate you. Maybe I'll disown you when I'm old enough that people will take me seriously."

"You do that."

Her eyes flashed a deadly silver from their bottomless depths.

"You need to grow up, brother."

"You need to grow up too. You've already got half the men fawning over you, and you don't know how to handle them."

Soleil clenched her jaw at the jab.

"I do too."

He laughed softly.

"I ignore them," she continued, in a lofty voice. "And do my best to look ugly whenever possible."

"Hardly the way to win the hearts of the people."

"You already have them. It would be a fruitless undertaking."

"I like competition."

The song ended and they bowed and curtsied accordingly before walking back to their thrones.

"Competition is pointless," was Soleil's parting remark before she sat gracefully in her small throne.

Thomas left her to begin his quest of dancing with every girl at least once, making note of the rising maturity levels and adjusting his record of actions that would charm each one.

He was lauding to those who loved him and slightly disdainful to those who didn't seem to care about him. For if they didn't care about him, why should he care about them? Of course, he never overstepped the boundary between polite criticism and rudeness. He walked the line well enough to know where to step.

* * *

Music played, colors whirled around, and the gentle murmur of talk and laughter filled the air. They were at the ball.

Over in the distance, Gloria saw a group of girls giggling like there was no tomorrow. She assumed that Prince Thomas was in the middle of those girls. 'He can't be _that_ handsome, or I would have known,' Gloria thought, moving towards the refreshment table. If only she could get there unnoticed. Hard to do in her elegant gold gown, but she would try anyway. Just a few more steps...

A new song started, and Gloria felt a tap on her arm. Turning, she came face-to-face with a boy.

"May I have this dance?" he asked, holding out his arm.

"But of course," Gloria responded, laying her hand on his arm and sighing inwardly. Her drink would have to wait. She turned her head to get a better look at her new partner. Jet black hair that looked like it had never been washed, pale skin, dark eyes ... This boy must be a scholar.

"With whom do I have the honor of this dance?" asked the boy.

"My name is Gloria Monterio, and you?" Gloria was quickly becoming bored with all these cumbersome phrases that had to be used.

"Alfred Bradshaw, at your service, milady." Bradshaw inclined his head slightly. "You are extraordinarily beautiful, Miss Monterio. I am surprised not to have seen you on the dance floor a bit more."

"Dancing does become quite tiresome after a while, to tell you the truth. I am indeed glad that they provide refreshments."

"Ah yes. Dancing does make one quit thirsty. Perhaps you would like to go get a drink?"

"It would be my pleasure."

Gloria and Alfred exited the dance floor and headed for the refreshments table. Gloria glanced toward the gaggle of girls who, supposedly, were hiding Prince Thomas from view and received a slight shock. Through a gap in the giggling girls, Prince Thomas was watching her! Or at least, it looked like he had been. She looked away, flushing and thinking fast. Either he had been watching her, or they had happened to look at each other at the same time. Personally, she would like to have thought the former was true, although there was really no way of knowing.

"So, what do you like to do?"

Alfred's question brought her back to the ballroom.

"Oh, not much. I love horseracing, but Father says I do way too much of it! He seems to think I have better things to be doing. But don't let me bore you. What is your main interest?"

Before Alfred got a chance to answer the question, Gloria felt a hand on her arm. Looking around, she found herself face-to-face with Prince Thomas.

"Excuse me, there's another song starting. Join me?"

"It would be my pleasure." Placing her hand on his arm, Gloria followed Prince Thomas out onto the dance floor.

Prince Thomas held most of the girls in the palm of his hand by the end of the evening. He was surrounded by a perfume-smelling cloud of those said girls as he glanced around the ballroom looking surreptitiously for any girls who may have been left out. He spied the girl in the golden dress talking with a young man about her age and realized he had not danced with her yet.

_And it's a good thing, _he thought with amusement, excusing himself from the flowery conversation, _or I would have gone blind before I had the chance to meet that one girl. What was her name?_

He asked her to dance in his usual smooth fashion, and she seemed only too happy to oblige. He chanced a look at the boy closer up. _A mangy specimen. Put on a few pounds of muscle, and wash your hair, lad!_

Thomas observed her as they danced, making a more fine tuned mental account, as he had with the scores of others. He was interrupted before he could quite begin, however, when she said suddenly;

"Are you enjoying the ball, sire?"

His mouth curved into a heart-melting smile and he thought he detected a hint of color rise to her cheeks.

"But of course. I always enjoy balls. The people are so... entertaining. And you, how do you care for the ball, Lady...?"

She smiled hesitantly, then offered her name.

"Gloria Monterio. I am enjoying myself immensely, thank you."

_Definitely does not look good in this dress. The flashiness is juvenile, but the color does not look as terrible as I imagined. Not an altogether flattering cut, though. She is well proportioned, unlike Talia; her head was so small I marveled she could think at all! Nice face. Freckles, I see, hiding under a thin layer of makeup. "Cute," I think, was the aim. Rough hands, hm. Not extraordinarily pretty, but she glows. Not a complementary figure to myself – too tall, and her chin is too round. Her eyebrows are too high, like she is always surprised. And, she smells of horse._

Gloria seemed to find his gaze disconcerting, for she frowned and cleared her throat a little. Thomas made no sign that he had heard her, waiting to see her reaction and do something captivating. Smile winningly and apologize for his inattendance, blush and mutter that he was distracted by her beauty, etc. She missed a step in the dance and tripped over his foot.

Thomas tightened his hold and held her upright with little effort. She flushed and stumbled an apology, though instead of looking distraught and humiliated, she looked faintly irritated. At him? Well!

"A horse maiden should be lighter on her feet," he said softly, with an undertone of criticism. Surely she would guess it was the smell that gave her away. He smiled like it was a tease, but she flushed deeper, now in anger.

"And a prince lighter on his tongue," she hissed as the song ended, curtsying jerkily.

_Touché, _he thought, almost laughing. _The viper bares its teeth. Good thing I saved her for last._

* * *

**Thomas really is great fun to write, once you get him going. The arrogant little whelp likes hearing all about himself, of course. But only on his own terms.****I hope I can get the next chapter up sooner than this.**_  
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_Yes, please _DO_ get the next chapter up sooner than this! Thank you to all of our precious reviewers, and to the next batch there will be ... -- drum roll --_

_chocolate-covered raisins! or yogurt covered, if you prefer ..._


	5. Chapter 5

**12 . 8 . 08**

**No, I haven't died yet. Sorry to get your hopes up. I'm finally back, after several unplanned months of near-silence (The Blooper Reel might have kept you all entertained, but I wasn't writing anything new, and haven't much since March.) I'm happy to say that I've rediscovered the Lost Chapters of NAPAN, and have written more, though not quite in juncture with it. My next plan is to fill in the gap. The updates should be fairly well paced, if everything goes well. This is a silly kind of story, which is a total turnaround in nature from I Do, but is also far less complicated, and should then be easier. Right? Yeah. I'm still trying to convince Cadmus of that. He's locked himself in his study, and I've gotten this much out of him because he's sliding things under the door.**

**Without any further ado, here's chapter 5. As a reminder, it's now all me – **Cimh** has decided to give me the story entirely. So, shifts in Gloria's style will happen, unfortunately. If you see them, please point them out so I can fix them. **

**I said no further ado, and then rambled on. My apologies.**

**Disclaimer: The fairy tale I'm parodying is not mine. Thomas is, and so is Gloria. Soleil as well, the little irritant.**

* * *

Thomas did not retire from the ball until 1 o'clock in the morning, and was thus understandably grumpy the next morning when awakened at 8 for breakfast. Soleil was even more frosty than usual during the mostly silent breakfast, and Thomas was already in a mood that made Tyvome wary of reminding him that he had to be ready to bid the guests farewell at noon. He was then unable to find his favorite book, and was further informed that his favorite black mare had fallen ill.

Prince Thomas was in a terrifying temper. It abated somewhat after he yelled at Tyvome, who had finally mustered the courage to remind the Prince of his duties, but the core remained as he stumped off to his tree, carrying his _second_ favorite book.

"Insolent man, telling me what to do," he muttered self-righteously, his eyes missing the beauty of the bright morning as he sulked.

Then, to complete his horrid morning, he spied Soleil and that gold-dress girl, the one who smelled like horse, sitting on the bench beside _his tree._

"Excuse me," he said coldly, "but you two are going to have to leave. I need this tree."

Soleil looked up from her sketch, black eyes holding more ice than his blue ones.

"We can share," she said shortly, moving marginally closer to Gloria, "or you can leave. Gloria and I were here first."

The other girl looked up from book in surprise at the harsh tones exchanged between the royal pair.

"Soleil," Thomas said condescendingly, "go do something you should be doing: embroidery, perhaps, or flirting with the servants."

Soleil's pale face flushed flushed in anger and she slammed the cover of her leather scetch book, imprisoning the half-drawn frog.

"I think I'll leave toying with the servants to you, dear brother," she said acidly.

Thomas suddenly noticed that Soleil was wearing a dress that made her look stunning, instead of the usual misshapen clothes she normally insisted upon.

"You look nice this morning," he said, half surprised and half wondering at her sudden change.

"My other dresses pinch," she said coolly, standing up and appearing as if she was going to leave. "Looking homely can be quite uncomfortable on occasion."

Thomas wasn't buying it. His eyebrows furrowed. He saw Horse Girl shift uncomfortably, completely excluded from the conversation. He made no effort to make her feel welcome as a thought occurred to him.

"Who is it?" he asked with a knowing smirk.

"No one. Idiot."

But it was too late – Thomas noticed that she'd pinked slightly. Horse Girl shifted again, like she was thinking of standing to defend her new friend.

"Is it that pig-faced Prince of Grendath? The mannerless pretty-boy Duke of Threnlish? Come on, dearest of my kin, I must know who has caught your eye."

She was stoically silent, glaring daggers into him. Then, Thomas had a revelation. He'd noticed her smiling once last night, though he hadn't thought much of it at the time. Who had she been talking with...

"It's the Prince of Molln, isn't it! Why didn't I guess him first? What's his name? Roger? Rupert?"

"Robert," Soleil corrected without thinking.

"Aha!" Thomas cried triumphantly. "I need to have a talk with him before he leaves today, all about you and how dreadful you are. I'll tell him all your most embarrassing stories—"

She grabbed a fistful of his collar and pointed a finger at his nose. Standing on tiptoe, she was still a head shorter than he, but her raging eyes almost took him by surprise.

"Don't you even think about it, Thomas Alphonse Samuel, or you will _live_ to regret it."

He laughed and pried her fingers free.

"What are you going to do about it, sunshine?"

She pushed past him none too gently, making her way at a furious walk toward the castle. Thomas laughed again for good measure and straightened his shirt before turning to Horse Girl.

"And you, Laura, or whatever you are," he said politely, "if you would, please leave."

She looked at him in disgust and closed her book.

"If this is how our Crown Prince acts toward his own sister, it's hard to believe that there hasn't been a mass revolt yet."

She stood as well, and started to leave, but Thomas called after her.

"And I hope you don't think you'll get a husband with a tongue like that."

"My husband is none of your concern," she snapped, turning around, "unless you plan to a be a suitor, in which case I advise you to rethink that option, because Gloria Monterio has more sense than those mindless girls you call your admirers."

"The day I sought your hand would be the confirmation of my idiocy," he retorted.

"If that is so, then the day must be coming soon," she said, her hand gripping the book so tightly her knuckles were white – it looked like she was having a hard time not throwing it at him. "I'll take great pleasure in shoving your extended hand straight back into your fat nose."

He laughed.

"That would be the death of me! Your horse smell would be unbearable!"

"Just because you're the prince, that doesn't give you the right to belittle everyone else," she yelled, stalking up to him. "You're not even a prince; you're an arrogant, self-centered, unchivalrous, disrespectful, immature boy with nothing to your name but a pretty face!"

She was breathing heavily and staring at him on eye level – Thomas thought absently again how tall she was.

"You're an impertinent, ugly, mannerless, prideful, pitiful, stupid girl, speaking before your brain can supply you with anything sensible!"

* * *

Gloria reacted before she thought through what she was about to, raising the book and slamming it into his jaw.

"Good day," she spat, dropping the book contemptuously at his feet. "Bury yourself in this book, maybe mummy won't notice the bruise. How _demeaning_ that an ugly stupid girl could best you like that."

She lifted her skirts and ran, her long legs carrying her swiftly towards the palace and away from that arrogant imbecile.

"Stupid! Prideful! Ha!" she exclaimed, rapping smartly on the door as she attempted to smooth her dress and hair in case her mother saw her in this state.

The door was opened immediately by two polite doormen, who helped direct her toward her room again.

"I shouldn't have dropped the book," she said to herself with a sigh, closing the door and catching a glimpse or herself in the mirror. Scary. "Now I have nothing to do until we leave."

"What am I? Chopped liver? Oh, knock knock, by the way."

"Jared! Where on earth have you been?"

Gloria, about to sit down to the dismal task of restoring order to the hairy mass that was her head, stood up and turned around, grinning at her best friend.

"Oh you know," he said airily, "this and that. Socializing with the ladies, getting a few tours of the castle, that sort of thing. What have you been doing?"

She rolled her eyes and sat down at the mirror, thinking that if either Emma or her mother arrived, she would be in for a lecture, so she might as well make a dent in the damage.

"I met the Princess. She's a little cold and distant, but not bad. And, if you get her talking, she's very interesting. I don't think she gets listened to very much."

"Princess Soleil? She talks?" Jared said, pretending to have a heart attack on her floor.

"Almost as much as you," Gloria said, wincing as she removed the elegant clip and unknotted a chunk of hair. How could one short run wreak this much damage? Looking nice was tiring and useless.

"Was that an insult, Gloria?" Jared asked, propping himself up on one elbow.

"Only if you want it to be," she said with a hidden smile. "But really, where were you last night? I think I saw everyone except for you!"

"Well, I kinda stepped out a little bit into it," Jared said casually. "It was awfully stuffy in there."

"I didn't think it was stuffy," she said, looking at him, puzzled.

He was picking at something on the maroon carpet.

"Jared! Were you alone?" she accused, smiling in spite of herself.

"Yes—well—technically," he defended.

"Technically? What?" she laughed, smoothing her not-perfect-but-close-enough hair back so she could put the clip back in.

"Well, I was alone for part of it," he amended, the only skin visible on his face tinging pink.

"Who was with you?" she wheedled, enjoying this far more than she should.

"Just a girl."

"A girl?"

Gloria was delighted. She flopped onto the floor in front of him, grinning.

"Who, who?"

Jared flushed.

"Oh come on, I'm not going to tell anyone," she whispered.

"Lady Alexis."

"She's sweet," Gloria affirmed immediately, remembering a few brief conversations with the girl.

She was still in the awkward stage of growing into her feet and hands, something Gloria had miraculously passed through without too much bodily harm, but she was pleasant and kind.

"Yeah," Jared muttered. "Well, anyway. That's where I was."

"And today too?"

He grinned at her.

"You're such a ladies-man," she teased, shoving his shoulder. "Did you even let her get a word in edgewise?"

"Yes!" he said indignantly, then realized she was making fun of him and laughed with her.

* * *

**Reviewers get a Jones soda, flavor of their choice!**


	6. Chapter 6

**22 . 8 . 08**

**Thank you, my two reviewers! Oh, p****lease note the time jump!**

**Disclaimer: Fairy tales continue to not be mine. Pretty much everything else is mine****.**

* * *

_Two years later..._

* * *

"Ahh! Stop! Haha! Stop that! Deeana! Richmond! Heehee! Helen! Ha! Geoffery! _Haha!_ You four—are going to—Haha—be the death—hee_hee_—of me! JARED! PEEL YOUR—HAHA—SIBLINGS OFF OF ME!"

"Why should I? You look like you're having fun without any of _my_ intervention."

It didn't take long for Gloria to limn exactly what was going to happen to Jared if he didn't help her out. As soon as "Alexis" came out of her mouth, Jared was hurling his younger siblings to the four corners of the room, saving Gloria's sister for last.

"Nooo!" Helen screamed, clinging to Gloria's legs like the Captain of a sinking ship does to the mast.

Jared pried her off with little effort, then almost fell as Richmond launched himself onto his back.

"Oof, take it easy, bugger. You're eight now, and bigger than you were, even though you're still smaller than Geoff," he said, loosening the laughing boy's grip on his neck.

Gloria stood up in a ready stance to deflect any more tickling fingers from the remaining four children. Her bright eyes dashed to and fro, marking their positions.

"Alright, come and get it, beasties," she threatened, narrowing her eyes and bending her knees so she was almost in a feral crouch. She blew some light brown hair out of her face as she glared her challenge to them all.

Geoff jumped onto Jared's back, distracting her enough that she didn't see Deeana and Helen until they were right behind her.

"Aaagh!" she shouted, jumping away from them and nearly knocking over her beleaguered friend, who was trying to remove Richmond from his face while Geoff yodeled a battle cry to the heavens and began beating on his brother's back. "Back, savages!" she shouted, parrying their reaching hands.

She saw an opening and grabbed little Deeana, hoisting her high into the air. Deeana shrieked and kicked, but Gloria kept her at arm's length, a few feet from the ceiling.

"Ha! What do you have to say for yourself _now_, little torturer? Eh?"

Her gloating was her downfall, because she hadn't realized that she was a prime target for Helen's firsthand knowledge of all her ticklish spots. Before she realized the danger she was in, Helen was gleefully tickling her sides, and Deeana fell on top of Gloria, who fell on top of Helen, who knocked over Jared, who still had both boys on him.

The mass of appendages on the floor moaned collectively and didn't attempt to move for a minute.

"Anyone dead?" Geoff called feebly from under Richmond's head.

"Me," Helen groaned, somehow beneath both Gloria and Jared.

"You're squishy," Deeana giggled, poking Gloria's belly before rolling off her legs, where she'd landed.

"Thanks," Gloria muttered, gingerly picking herself up while trying not to injure Helen further. "Jared, get off my sister. You're suffocating her."

"My bad entirely," Jared said, hopping to his feet with alacrity and offering his hand to the thirteen year old girl.

"That was fun! Let's do it again!" Richmond shouted, trying to yank Geoff to his feet while he himself remained firmly on top of his head.

"Ouch! Lay off! You're not a stretcher!" Geoff yelped, shoving Richmond off his head, wincing and moving his arm, as if to be sure nothing was broken.

"Aww, stop whining. Richie couldn't hurt you if he tried," Gloria said, rolling her eyes.

Her eyes fell on Deeana and she gasped. An angry red scratch was welling blood above her left eye.

"Come on Dee, let's get that cleaned up," she said quickly, scooping the four year old on to her hip and bustling through the Tiroe's house to the kitchen.

"I'm fine!" Dee insisted, pouting and squirming in Gloria's grip.

"No ma'am," Gloria said firmly. "We're going to get a bandage on that before your mom sees it and faints."

"I'll be in trouble?" she said fearfully.

Gloria smiled and touched her nose.

"Not if I can help it. Now, hold still," she said, setting Deeana on a counter.

The kitchen was mostly deserted, the breakfast being cleaned up and lunch not quite being prepared yet. She found a washcloth and dipped it into a bucket of clean looking water, then wiped carefully at the bloody cut that was about ready to drip into Deeana's eye.

"There, that's not so bad," Gloria said, tossing the rag in a basket with the other dirty rags.

"Here's a bandage!" Richmond said, scampering into the kitchen with a long strip of off-white cloth.

"Perfect. Thanks," Gloria said, tying it securely around Deeana's head. "Now you look like a warrior princess," she told the girl, helping her off the counter.

"Warrior princess!" Deeana said delightedly, running off with Richmond.

Gloria took a deep breath and huffed it out. Taking care of all the siblings was more work than she thought it would be. When were the parents due back? She had to be sure the children were safely back under the servant's care before they found out that their 'noble children' had spent the entire afternoon cavorting with the wild animals. She planned on telling her parents, but only after her mother was sitting down and quite calm. She tended to overreact when it came to matters of Gloria's acting like a lady.

"Only a few more hours, then we have to be responsible sixteen year olds again," Jared said, poking his head into the kitchen, his eyes twinkling. "You're wasting our freedom! Come on!"

She smiled and ran after him as he bolted for the door, where squeals and laughs were growing steadily farther away.

* * *

Thomas looked in the mirror briefly on his way out the door. His features were much the same as they had been at fourteen, but they were more firm and angular, losing the roundness as he grew older. Instead of just good looking, he was astonishingly handsome, and Thomas knew that beyond a shadow of a doubt.

The whole country was clamoring for his betrothal. He was on his way at that moment to dine with the Penn family, one of the many families trying to market their daughters to him. He was currently undecided on the matter of his bride. So many girls had palatable appearances and amiable personalities. He was fairly certain he would choose Lady Chelsea Franklin; she seemed the most logical. He was drawing out the process, however, in case one of the other families upped their dowries, as well as to keep the people of Berensia interested.

He would have to formally select his bride before his 17th birthday, at his mother's insistence, so he could get to know his fiancée and marry before he turned 19.

Soleil came around the corner at the same time he passed it.

"How do you fare, sister?" he asked politely, offering his arm to escort her.

"Don't use that diplomatic mumbo-jumbo on me, and I'm perfectly capable of carrying my own arm, thank you. I'm dreadful, by the way, pleasant of you to ask."

"Sorry to hear it," Thomas said dryly, idly glancing at his twelve – nearly thirteen – year old sister's wardrobe.

An unflattering dress hung loosely from her narrow frame, and her make-up made her seem more gaunt than she was already. She looked, thus, normal.

"Pray tell, why are you dreadful?"

She glared, pursing her pale lips.

"You know quite well why. It's the same reason I've been dreadful for the past week and more – all your ill-fated bride hunting is forcing me to pretend I have any interest in boys whatsoever. Foul creatures."

"We're not all bad," he commented lightly. "And Prince Robert is a fine specimen, hm?"

She didn't even look at him, but Thomas knew he'd scored a hit, which put a smug grin on his face as they entered the dining hall.

"You were almost late," his father said cheerfully.

"It wouldn't have mattered," he said quietly to his father as he sat. "More attention would have been drawn to me."

His father laughed and clapped him on the shoulder.

"Very good."

Thomas looked over, smiling amicably at Lady Margaret, who blushed and smiled back.

Dinner passed smoothly, and while he was talking quietly with Margaret, he thought he heard the fathers discussing Margaret's dowry in veiled terms. Perhaps Lady Margaret would be rising on the candidates list.

Soleil rolled her eyes into her vegetables and stabbed viciously at a green pepper, giving a few curt responses to the Penn's younger son, who was attempting to engage her in conversation.

"You look nice tonight, Princess Soleil."

"No, I don't, but you're a good liar."

"I'm not a liar."

"As you wish."

Pause.

"Your castle is beautiful."

"I designed it myself."

The boy looked like he almost believed her. Thomas nearly laughed, but he managed to let the amusement out in a controlled grin that looked like it was in response to Margaret's statement.

"What a lovely color on you, Margaret," Thomas said between courses.

"Thank you," she said with a bright smile. "I know you like dark blue."

"I do – it is my favorite color."

_But that's not it. You've got a dark royal blue on, and my favorite is midnight blue. But, there will be plenty of time for correction later._

"I thought so."

They smiled at each other, and the two fathers winked at each other while the two mothers laughed behind their hands.

Soleil thought she was going to be sick.

* * *

**Thomas is sickening. I don't blame Soleil. Ugh. That whole family – except perhaps Queen Savannah – is not pleasant at heart. --shakes head--**

**What do you think of Gloria and Jared, more grown-up? And all the siblings probably melded together, but they'll become more distinct in the following chapters, I think. For clarification, Helen is Gloria's younger sister, and Geoffery, Richmond, and Deeana are Jared's younger siblings. He has an older sister, but she's married and gone. **

**(That last bit was superfluous information, unless you are aware of the typical character qualities of eldest children, and realize that Jared has very few to none of them.)**

**orangehotchocolate: Ha, yes. Rereading would probably help. Dropping books, especially **_**outside,**_** makes me wince, but she was really mad, so I guess I can't blame her.**

**Darth Chocolate: Getting beaten with a book? --laugh-- That was your favorite part? He had it coming, didn't he? Ha. **

**Reviewers get cherry M&Ms, if you like them, or any other flavor of them if you don't.**


	7. Chapter 7

**9 . 9 . 08**

**Soleil is pronounced "So-LAY," in case anyone was wondering.**

**This chapter is dedicated to anyone who's ever had a similar relationship with their mother.**

* * *

"Gloria Charlotte Monterio! How could someone claiming to be a lady take such a – a – dis_grace_ful and de_mean_ing job into her own hands? _Babysitting_, Gloria?"

The object of the outburst winced, twisting her dress behind her back.

"I know you aren't delighted with acting like a lady all of the time, but there are just some things you mustn't do!"

Angelina's face softened at the wince still firmly in place on Gloria's face. _She was just trying to enjoy herself a bit,_ a voice in the back of her head sighed. Angelina sighed too and put a hand to her forehead.

"Really, Gloria. I've tried to be as understanding as I can."

"I know, Momma," Gloria said quietly.

"I haven't forbidden you from horseback riding, or from spending so much time with Lord Tiroe—"

"Thank you."

"—but spending the entire day playing with his siblings – and dragging Helen through it, too! – is just irresponsible. She has her sampler to do, and you haven't done a _stitch_ in your own sampler! Do you realize your aunt's birthday is in less than two weeks?"

"I forgot about that!" Gloria gasped, her eyebrows shooting up.

Angelina sighed again.

"I'm sure you did. Go work on that."

Gloria curtsied and started to leave the room.

"Wait, Gloria?"

"Yes?"

She stopped and turned around.

"No horseback riding until you finish that sampler," Angelina said firmly.

Gloria bit back a cry of argument with some difficulty. She hadn't _intended_ to neglect her sampler, after all, and it would take at least a week of work!

"Yes, mother."

"And you aren't to see Lord Tiroe tomorrow."

"Mother!" Gloria said before she could bite her tongue.

"It won't kill you," Angelina said irritably, "and unless he plans to court you, it wouldn't hurt you to spend more time with your sister and some of her friends, and less with him. But, that is not an order – yet."

"Thankfully," Gloria said under her breath, imagining Jared courting her.

Yuck.

"Yes, mother."

Angelina heard the muttered comment, but let it slide.

"Go work on your sampler, Gloria," she said wearily.

Gloria remembered to curtsy just in time before she hurried from the room.

* * *

Oftentimes, a fateful day does not seem very fateful at first.

It passes normally in the beginning, and you spend the day thinking routinely, holding steadfastly normal conversations, eating the same – or similar – food as always, and wearing quite ordinary clothes. Nothing remarkable happens. Nothing that could give a hint that this day might be monumental in the slightest. So it was with Prince Thomas (and Gloria as well, though her own fateful day came later, and she didn't know about it for several months afterward, though she heard the news, same as anyone else.) He arose at eight o'clock, was dressed and eating breakfast with his family by nine, inveighed Tyvome for doing his duty, swapped veiled insults with Soleil, had lunch with the Franklins, toyed with Lady Chelsea, and spent the remainder of the afternoon riding with her.

Even dinner with the royal family of Molln was not extraordinarily strange. The families visited each other every third month or so, as the kings were fast friends. Prince Thomas found Prince Robert far too prideful and charming for his tastes, though he always made a decent attempt to hide those feelings when his father was around.

Prince Robert's older brother, Prince Fraylish, was, for all practical purposes, mute. He never spoke a word, only nodding shortly when required. Prince Thomas could care less for him, and Fraylish could care less for Prince Thomas. They had a happy relationship, ignoring one another's very existences.

Soleil was wearing to dinner that night a velvet dress of deep plum that made her look radiant, a detail that none of the princes failed to notice, though Fraylish only noted it briefly before looking with intense disinterest back to the Kings' conversation.

"You look lovely," Prince Robert said to her in a low voice. They had been seated, very conveniently, next to each other.

"Thank you," she said simply, taking a sip of her water. Her eyes sparkled. "You cut a rather handsome figure yourself."

"One does what one can," Prince Robert said, giving her a grin before returning to his plate.

"One does, doesn't one," she mused philosophically, taking a bite of chicken.

"Some have more natural attractiveness to work with, however," Prince Robert continued, looking over at her for a bare moment.

Prince Thomas wasn't sure if the peacock was referring to himself or Thomas's sister, but either way, he was not overly pleased.

(There was, perhaps, some jealousy on his part, but that thought did not occur to Thomas.)

"Some do," Soleil agreed, and there was no other talk between the two for the remainder of the dinner.

Nevertheless, Thomas had made up his mind to take a walk with Prince Robert following dinner: a walk on which Soleil was not invited.

* * *

"How have you been, Robert?" Prince Thomas asked as the pair wandered the spacious gardens in the gathering twilight.

"Well enough," Robert said pleasantly, looking out over the gardens. "And yourself?"

"I've been quite busy, though pleasantly so, spending large quantities of time trying to select my future bride."

"That sounds like an enjoyable occupation," Robert said, smiling slightly.

Prince Thomas scowled, not liking the thought of the uppity young prince imagining _his_ beauties. He cut to the chase.

"I heard you exchanging a bit more than pleasantries with Soleil at dinner."

"She is amusing to converse with, and is more to look at than most," Robert said lightly, shaking his pitch black hair with an air of casual superiority.

"That she might be," Thomas said, "but she is quite the ice princess when she has the mind. Never a sharper tongue have you ever heard when she's riled."

"Is that so?" Robert hummed, raising an eyebrow. "Is there anything else I should know about the frigid beauty?"

"She's completely infatuated with you," Prince Thomas started, tapping his finger on his lip as if he was trying to remember, "and she _hates_ people fawning over her. Do you know she always wears dresses that are practically _sacks_? She thinks that will keep people from noticing her beauty. Personally, I think if she perfected her permanent scowl, she might finally achieve her dream of looking like a confused ogre. _That_ might keep people from noticing."

Both boys laughed at that. The conversation continued, Prince Thomas speaking and Robert listening with interest and amusement to Soleil's embarrassing tales.

Only one pair of eyes in the begonia bush knew then that the day was fateful – one pair of dark, narrowed eyes.

* * *

Mazkeraide**: 5: I'm sorry, I forgot to reply to your review! I'm sure it is nice to be reading something with a plot, anyway. --chuckle-- 6: Thomas is a ... shower? I'm not sure I understand. Ahh, Soleil certainly has a lot of sarcasm.**

FaylinnNorse**: I'm glad you're reading this! --smile-- Yes, there are quite a few siblings. Like I said, they'll become more distinct as time passes. I'm trying to be careful to separate them and develop them a bit individually – as in this chapter. Did that help any? Soleil is dysfunctional. Good eye. --laugh-- Not in a boring way? I'm glad to hear that.**

Darth Chocolate**: I'm glad you liked it. Soleil is interesting to write.**

EVA**: Ah, telepathy. That would be useful. You liked 5 so much it almost made it better than I Do? Well. I'm not sure if that's a good thing or not, since this is supposed to be silly, and that was supposed to be serious. Hmm. Celeste was a good, solid character. After her minor flaw at the beginning, she fared better than the rest in her soul-searching. --laughs delightedly-- Holy scones! And you still persevered reviewing? I feel honored! I do feel valued, and I was amused. Common, indeed. Thomas is terrible. --shakes head-- I don't know about miracles... but you'll see what happens. Ha, what could be more normal? Ah, children. --smile-- Och! I hope the mopping up of the hormonal teenager went well!**

Bingo7**: He is very easy to write! And a lot of fun, despite his wickedness and teeth-grinding arrogance. It really is human nature, isn't it? Tickle fights are a hoot to write, I've discovered. --laugh--**

Cimh**: Did you catch the french pun? I doubt that, but thank you for the compliment. As for Soleil: it's probably a mixture of her personality mixed with her terrible relationship with her brother and basically nonexistent relationship with her parents. She copes in her own way. Does that make sense?**

**A slice of mocha cheesecake for reviewers!**


	8. Chapter 8

**23 . 9 . 08**

**This chapter is dedicated to **FebruarySong** because she's the reason why I'm updating. To be fair, she told all her readers to update, because apparently it's not only the Fairy Tales section that's suffering from a discouraging amount of updates. If you, too, are looking for something to read, and like Lord of the Rings, check out her story, "The Awkard Adventures of Meghan Whimblesby" which is a story making fun of Mary Sue's. It's most amusing, and it's written well. And, review! She has a lot of reviews, but she deserves them, especially from **_**competent**_** readers such as yourselves.**

**Disclaimer: I most assuredly do not own this fairy tale, though I'm having no small amount of fun borrowing it temporarily.**

* * *

The sun was shining brightly into the royal bedchamber of the Crown Prince. Light reflected sumptuously from the silver trimmings, and made the midnight blue walls glow warmly. The roborant light then fell onto the peaceful form of the boy in his bed, gently urging him to arise. Prince Thomas opened his eyes very slowly, as he always did upon waking. The same silver canopy slowly came into focus.

"Good morning, Prince Thomas," he said to himself, then yawned refreshingly, stretching his arms out to the sides and wiggling his fingers.

That was where the trouble began. He could have sworn he had five fingers on each hand. _Must be my tired mind_, he thought unconcernedly, pulling one out from under the goosefeather coverlet and wiggling it in front of his eyes. Four green things accosted his vision, startling him. He moved his hand to swipe them irritably away, and the green things waved.

He froze.

_What is this? It can't..._

He slowly moved one finger, realizing again that he only felt four fingers instead of five.

One of the green things bent and unbent slowly.

He leapt out of bed in alarm and fell much further than he expected to, landing soundly on his head. He jumped to his feet, but felt strangely unbalanced. He knelt into a wary crouch, looking around wildly.

_Why is my dresser so tall? And my bed? What happened?_

_Knock knock._

"Your majesty, it's eight o'clock," Tyvome said, starting to open the door.

"Close my door this instant!" Prince Thomas ordered sharply and loudly.

The door closed after only a small pause.

"My prince, your parents are expecting you for breakfast in an hour," the muffled voice said patiently.

This wasn't the first time Tyvome had had trouble coaxing the prince out of bed. He rubbed his eye and readied himself.

"Hang my parents," Prince Thomas muttered distractedly, then surprised himself by, instead of climbing the dresser like he had planned to do, leaping effortlessly to the very top.

Now thoroughly shaken, Prince Thomas peered over the edge of the bowl of water, his original plan for climbing the dresser.

"Sir? Your family..." Tyvome eased.

"Hang them!" Prince Thomas said in a strangled yell, catching his reflection in the water. "I'm not going!"

"Your majesty!" came the shocked voice on the other side of the door.

Prince Thomas wasn't paying attention.

"I'm a frog," he said breathlessly, touching his broad green face with a sticky hand. "I'm a..."

The fourth repetition of his name finally broke through his stupefied haze.

"Prince Thomas!"

"_Don't_ come in here!" he shouted.

Tyvome was surprised to hear a touch of fear coloring the normally composed, if a bit angry, voice. He hesitated before removing his hand from the knob.

"I'll be back in ten minutes, my prince," he said with a sigh, and Prince Thomas heard his shoes click down the paneled hallway.

"I'm a frog!" he repeated, pinching his arm and splashing his face with water to be sure he wasn't dreaming.

A sharp point of pain and the unquestionable wetness of the water made his predicament irrevocably real.

"What on earth am I going to do?"

The door burst open and he hopped instinctively to the floor.

"I _know_ you're in here, brother fair," the voice said, and if it wasn't for the sarcastic endearment, he wouldn't have recognized it as Soleil's.

It was happy. It was wildly, almost demonically, happy. The voice sent an involuntary shiver down his back. He brushed that away with annoyance. _It's just Soleil, after all._

"Come out," she crooned, and he heard the sliding of the lock. "I just want to talk to you."

He never thought he'd be cowering in fear from his baby sister, but the size reversal and cruel joy in her voice forced all his froggish instincts onto high alert. _Predator! Predator! Hide!_ they warned. He swallowed, listening as she shuffled through his immaculate room. He could imagine her quick eyes searching for anything out of the ordinary, anything that would betray his hiding spot.

His eyes focused on two small, wet footprints he'd left on the carpet from his still-damp... hands. Soleil's face appeared in the gap and he yelped, hopping backward into the wall. Her small hand was around him in a flash and she dragged him out, holding him up in the air as she examined him. A smile was etched on her pale face as she flipped him this way and that, evaluating him.

"Not bad, not bad," she said to herself.

"Soleil! Unhand me at once! I am the royal heir to the throne, and you have no right to manhandle me like some common curiosity!" Prince Thomas said imperiously, struggling to maintain a dignified position in her shifting grip.

"How does it feel to be small and unimportant?" she asked, her mouth quirking into a sneer. "How does it feel to be examined and evaluated when you _know_ they're not looking to give you approval?"

Prince Thomas was puzzled by her speech, but was nevertheless taking breath to reply when he was crushed into a ball in the palm of her hand. She was moving around, and he thought he heard her tugging on something fabric, but his wonder was overruled by the thundering heat.

_Thirsty! Water!_

He ignored the jerky frog-thoughts, but he couldn't help but feel lightheaded and parched.

_Has her hand always been this hot?_

"Soleil," he tried to gasp, but she didn't hear him.

"I need two hands," she muttered, and then he was flying out of her hand into something dark.

The water bowl, now empty, clapped over his head.

_Wet! Water! Water!_

"Stop that!" he said to the disjointed thoughts, shaking his head.

A water droplet landed on his back, and he felt better.

_WATER!_

"Fine!" he shouted back, peering at the domed prison until he found some more water drops.

He cupped them awkwardly in his new hands, and bathed his face and neck with them. The water cooled him instantly and, strangely, sated his thirst. The frog-thoughts appeased, Prince Thomas turned back to the issue at hand.

"Soleil!" he shouted, banging on the bowl. "Soleil!"

She didn't respond. He continued banging on the bowl and trying to push it, but he was far too small to make any difference. Without warning, the bowl was removed, and, having just thrown his entire paltry weight against it, he fell. Soleil had him imprisoned in her hand before he could think to hop.

"Here's the deal," she said, taking a jar out of a fold in her dress. "Try not to breathe, otherwise you'll suffocate."

He didn't have the available brainpower to comprehend the irony of the statement.

"What on earth are you doing?" he yelled indignantly, but she merely tipped him into the jar and screwed on the lid.

_Get out! Out! Water! Hop! Free!_

"Would you shut up? I'm trying to think!" Prince Thomas shouted at the pestering thoughts.

He looked up at the lid, eyes searching for—

"A hole. So, she doesn't want to kill me right away."

Soleil's hidden pocket was dark, and he didn't appreciate being bumped around, no matter what way he settled himself. He was still trying to get used to his oddly proportioned body. He could not longer sit like a human, but any froggish positions made him supremely uncomfortable.

"What a little vixen," he muttered. "She is jealous of my crown and looks, so she turns me into a frog. I wonder who she paid off to do it. A fairy? Not likely a fairy would get near her. She's so disagreeable."

He braced himself angrily against the sides of the jar as she jolted down the stairs. After a few moments of awkwardly peeling his fingers from the glass, he resumed his thinking.

"She could have bought something from a hag and slipped it into my drink," he decided, trying to remember if anything tasted funny at dinner the night before. "Well, at least I told Robert about her true character. Once he hears of this, there will be no denying it."

The sudden light blinded him, interrupting his triumphant thought. He blinked rapidly, tensing to spring as soon as the lid was removed. He still didn't have full grip of his frog capabilities, but he knew he could clear the top of the jar. He squinted up at the top, judging the location of the hole and doing his best to position himself beneath it.

The scenery on the other side of the rippling glass was unfamiliar – a wood, but not the one behind the palace, past the iris field.

The lid came off and he jumped with all his might, only realizing after he was airborne exactly how far off the ground he was.

The froggish thought croaked in fright, but Prince Thomas focused on bracing himself for a messy landing in the bush. He hit the bush hard, but managed to keep from smashing his head, though the force of the impact made him see stars.

Soleil laughed.

"Bye bye, brother fair," she said, her voice high above his head.

He suddenly realized that, deranged or not, jealous or not, Soleil was the only one of the two who knew where they were and how to get back home. So, being as quiet as he could in the rustling leaves and twigs, he poked his head out of the bush to see which way Soleil was heading.

He was just in time to see her vanish.

* * *

**SIMBA: This should answer your question. Dark and evil things, indeed. Though, I bet you were kidding about that. --chuckle-- Ah! That would have been a wonderful idea. I might use it yet...**

**Darth Chocolate: You're very perceptive. The two princes aren't as friendly as they first appear.**

**Mazkeraide: Aha, that makes sense. Is this better than getting beat up? Ha.**

**So, now you all know what fairy tale I'm retelling. Comments? Questions? Laughter? Wicked plots and speculation?**

**Lemon meringue pie for reviewers!**


	9. Chapter 9

**14 . 10 . 08**

**Disclaimer: Gloria's personality is **Cimh**'s.**

* * *

"The royal children are missing?" Gloria said, glad for an excuse to put down the needlework.

"Both of them," Jethro confirmed grimly. "It looks like Prince Thomas ran away. There's no sign of Princess Soleil."

"The prince? Run away?" Helen said in disbelief, snorting into her embroidery. "One of his fawning maidens must have drawn a knife on him."

"Helen," scolded Angelina softly.

"But it's true," Gloria added, remembering the prince with a shudder.

"This is no laughing matter," Jethro said seriously. "He left a note, saying that he was going on his quest to deserve the crown."

"That sounds too humble to be the prince I met," Gloria said. "He thought he was ready _then_."

"He might have gotten a little wiser in the past two years," Angelina offered.

"Doubt it," Helen and Gloria said at the same time.

The two girls laughed, but Jethro remained unamused.

"Even if Prince Thomas is questing, that does not explain Princess Soleil's disappearance," he said.

"What do they think, Jethro?" Angelina asked, looking worried.

"No one's sure what to think. Berensia is in good standing with its neighboring countries, and there's been no talk of an uprising. Surely, if she was being held for ransom, a ransom note would have been left?"

"I wouldn't blame her if she ran away," Gloria said quietly, looking back down at her needlework and readying the next stitch.

"Why is that?" Angelina asked, her sharp ears picking up the muttered statement.

"Nothing," Gloria sighed. "Never mind."

She thought of the pale girl, eagerly telling her about her drawings and ideas of life.

"_I want to be a sorceress! They are so powerful, _everyone_ fears them. Even kings! Don't you think that is a good idea?"_

"_I think you could do whatever you wanted."_

"_Really?"_

_The princess looked doubtful – it was obvious she wasn't expecting that reaction. Gloria smiled warmly._

"_Definitely. You're smart. You could be a sorceress if you wanted. Can you be a sorceress-princess?"_

"_I don't think anyone's done it before, but I could be one anyway," Soleil said, smiling._

Gloria shook her head, recalling the scene that had happened afterwards – how quickly Soleil's demeanor changed from hesitantly open to cold and defensive when her brother approached. _Wherever she is, she'll be okay._ Gloria was sure of that. If Soleil was on her own, she would fend for herself.

"Master Tiroe is asking after Miss Monterio," the butler said, interrupting her thoughts.

Gloria looked at Angelina pleadingly. Anglina's eyes rested on the sampler, assessing her progress, before flicking back up to her face.

"You may return in two hours, and if you go horseback riding, leave time to wash and change clothes before you put one foot in my parlor."

"Thank you, Mother!" Gloria said, beaming.

She put her sampler down and hurried from the room. Jared was waiting on the front steps, looking mildly uncomfortable.

"What?" she asked, frowning and halting just outside the door.

"Oh, um, nothing," Jared said, brightening. "That butler just keeps making hints that we should be courting. It's a bit... awkward."

"My mother said the same thing," Gloria said, rolling her eyes in exasperation. "I keep telling her about Alexis, but she just gives me weird what-do-you-know-you're-just-a-kid looks and saying 'We'll see.' Honestly."

Jared, who had blushed at the mention of Alexis, was recovering himself admirably.

"Oh, she's coming to visit, by the way."

"Really? When?" Gloria asked eagerly.

It had been months since she'd seen her quiet friend, and she couldn't wait to see her again.

"Next month," Jared replied. "Her family's coming for the festival."

Gloria squealed and hugged him.

"The festival?" she said breathlessly. "The whole thing?"

"I think so," Jared said, grinning.

"That's _two weeks _long!" she said, imagining all the fun they'd have with that much time on their hands.

"I know!" Jared said, smiling. "We'll all have to go riding into the wood and find that waterfall again."

The last time Alexis had come – over a year ago – the three had gone adventuring into the woods and found a small waterfall and pool in a clearing. Jared and Gloria had been trying to find it ever since, but they'd always mixed up that pool and the legions of others in the damp forest. Alexis swore up and down that she remembered exactly where it was.

"Definitely," Gloria grinned. "I can't believe she's coming!"

"Me neither."

"Jared, Jared! When's Lexie coming? When when _when?!_"

Deeana ran into her brother's legs in her haste to have her question answered. She rebounded dizzily and then stared expectantly up at him.

"Why did you come all the way over here to ask me?" Jared asked, laughing. "Mom could have told you."

"She was yelling at Geoff and Richie for getting into trouble," Deeana explained.

"What did they do?" Jared asked, furrowing his brow. "They were just playing with their wagon trains a minute ago."

"I dunno," Deeana shrugged impatiently. "When is Lexie coming!"

"In a few weeks," Jared told her.

"Yippee!" Deeana screeched, running back to her house. "I'm gonna dress up my dollies!"

"Is your mother alright with her running around by herself like that?" Gloria asked, watching Deeana disappear over the small hill between the two houses.

"Probably not," Jared said lightly. "You want to go riding?"

"Only if you want to get beat," Gloria said with a grin.

"You? Beat me? Ha. Sure."

Gloria slugged his arm.

"Watch it."

"I'm going to watch you meet your fate, that's what I'm watching," Jared said with a smirk.

"We'll see who's going to meet their fate," Gloria said loftily, leading the way to the stable.

* * *

Meanwhile, a certain not-so-beloved prince was meeting his own fate. After wandering around in the woods all day, he was hungry, thirsty, tired, and in a furious temper. He had passed up two murky puddles of water for their filth, and was firmly set against ingesting any insects. It was harder to restrain his froggish instincts with every mosquito that buzzed over his head.

_Water! Food!_

"What a loathesome trick!" he ranted into the darkening wood, trying to take his mind off the shouted demands.

A robin sitting cozily in her nest peered down curiously to see where the voice came from.

"I suppose she thinks I'll die out here, and she'll steal my throne! When I get back to the palace, I'll see her hanged for high treason!"

The robin cocked her head, puzzled. Her sharp eyes detected a frog hopping along the forest floor. A frog? Talking? She tucked her head back under her wing. Must be the sorceress's doing.

"When I get back, you can be sure that the look on her face will be priceless. Ha! I can see her now, perched on my throne, consoling my weeping parents, when the joyous trumpeter throws the doors open and announces my return. I'll stride in behind him and comfort my parents, who will be fearful now that I am a ghost. 'Fear not,' I'll say. 'I—'"

"What you need right now is water, little frog. Is there something wrong with your instincts?"

Thomas turned his bulbous eyes to the winged creature that had appeared at his side.

"Introduce yourself, subject," he said, looking away from the fairy with disinterest.

"Wyn," the fairy said simply, "though I'm no subject of yours, I shouldn't think, as I'm not a frog."

"For your sharp tongue, I _should_ have you imprisoned," Thomas said, in a lofty voice thick with mercy, "but today I shall pretend it did not happen if you would direct me to my castle."

"You mean the pond?" the fairy supplied helpfully, keeping step with the frog's hops while her sage-green hair bounced in its loose braid. "Which one are you from? Adagio? Willow? Cattail?"

"My dear, dull fairy," Thomas snapped, glancing over at her with an expression of disgust. "Has it not occurred to you, a magical being by nature, that I am speaking precise English, and am _not,_ therefore, merely a frog that has taught itself to speak."

"Oh, are you?" she said, brushing off the insults like she'd heard them before. "I understand all animals, so I didn't really notice. Are you a human, then?"

"A Crown Prince, actually," he said, "and you'd best remember that, and address me accordingly or I will send you to the dungeons after you convey me safely to the palace."

"Are they expecting you?" she asked with a noise Prince Thomas thought sounded suspiciously like a stifled laugh.

This uppity fairy was really starting to grate against Prince Thomas' already raw nerves.

"I've always considered fairies to be competent individuals," he said with annoyance, "an assumption, I'll admit, based on your magical properties and longevity. Perhaps I've assumed wrong. Tell me, subject: if a prince, a Crown Prince, goes missing, would the royal family not expect him back?"

"Not if he'd been kidnapped," she said lightly. "But, I meant, are they expecting you as a _frog_?"

"I shouldn't think so," he snorted. "Now, are you going to take me home before I decide to give you more than one night in our prison?"

"Riddle me this, your worshipful toadness," she said, not cracking a smile at her ludicrous title. Prince Thomas bristled. "Why should I take you home if I know you're just going to throw me in the dungeon, hm?"

With that parting comment, she vanished, leaving Prince Thomas standing speechless by a clear pool with a small waterfall cascading down the pearly rocks.

* * *

**I know it's a bit of a filler chapter, but bear with me here. Sorry. What do you think of Wyn? She's fun to write, so I hope she's fun to read.  
**

Mazkeraide**: Is it getting good? --grin--**

Faylinn**: He does deserve it, doesn't he? He's such an arrogant little beastie. Soleil is very intriguing. She's one of my favorite characters in here; it's too bad she doesn't crop up more often. Ah well.**

Falchion**: It had better teach him some humility. Goodness knows he needs it.**

EVA**: Oh, ugh. I hate typing 'lol'. That's why you generally see me writing '--laugh--' instead. There isn't much difference, but... it's a psychological thing, I think. --grin-- Thomas is having a bit of trouble adjusting to this frog-life, I think. Oh, no crown for Thomas! Haha, no. That would be highly amusing, though.**

Bingo7**: Hmm, that is the question, isn't it? --grin--**

TheRealFaerieQueen**: Welcome to the story! Thanks for reviewing! Is Soleil evil? Well, that's the question of the day. This wasn't very quickly, sorry. I'll try to get the next chapter up sooner!**

Darth Chocolate**: --laugh-- Post like I've never posted before? --strikes a heroic pose-- Fear not, Thomas! I will rescue you! (**_**Enchanted**_**, anyone? ... --cricket-- ...)**

Forever Daydreaming**: Welcome to the story! Thanks for reviewing! Yes, Thomas really does deserve to be a frog. He's such an annoying little thing.**

**Reviewers get a bowl of fresh raspberries! Speculators get some melted white chocolate to dip their raspberries in!**


	10. Chapter 10

**18 . 11 . 08**

**Sorry for the horrendous delay. Life, more times than not, gets in the way of writing. However, I am – if only for a brief moment – the victor! Here are the fruits of my spoils.**

**Disclaimer: Gloria's personality is **Cimh**'s.**

* * *

After sleeping in the hollow of a tree, and spending an entire day refusing to so much as look at any of the ponds he came across, Thomas grumblingly returned to the clear pool with the waterfall that Wyn had led him to the day before. It had algae and plants in it, a fact that caused Thomas to shudder, but he had little choice. His thoughts were—_water!_—rapidly de—_Water!_—grading into—_WATER!_—uselessly ch—_WATERWATER!_—oppy sentences.

His lack of ability to concentrate was giving him a headache, so he cautiously, regretfully, slid into the crystal pool. His thoughts immediately cleared, and he enjoyed a few moments of respite before he was reminded of his hunger. He sighed heavily and sunk further into the water, feet steeped in pond mud. A prince was never to find peace in this accursed forest.

Watching the other frogs snapping flies and mosquitoes out of the air only made him more sullen. It took a great deal of effort to beat back the frog instincts and keep his tongue inside of his mouth, and he was soon exhausted.

He slept by the riverbank that night, and spent the next day trying to find his way out of the forest, demanding help from any forest creature unfortunate enough to cross his path. Sadly, the stories weren't true – the animals did not speak, or, at least, did not speak such that he could understand them. He couldn't even interpret the soft croaks of the frogs, much to his chagrin.

He spent the next five days wandering around the forest, always running back into the waterfall pool, which he began to think of as a sort of temporary home base after he stopped being frustrated that he was walking in circles. There was a sheltered niche underneath the waterfall where he could sleep in the light mist, therefore staying comfortably dry, but not waking up in the middle of the night needing a dip. He kept venturing out, but could never make it to any edge of the forest.

He still refused to eat a bug. He tried to eat berries, leaves, grass, roots, nuts, fruit, and anything else he could find once he got hungry enough on his third day as a frog, but he felt very ill afterwards and had to go through the extremely unpleasant process of throwing it up again. This, Thomas discovered, was even more unpleasant as a frog than as a human. Apparently, frogs vomit their entire stomach out of their mouth and then have to carefully clean it out while trying not to gag on it.

That was enough to give Thomas nightmares, and he didn't try to eat anything else after that first, very long, night. He figured out how to stifle his froggish instincts, though they still annoyed him, but as he was dead set against eating an insect, he thought he had little choice than to put up with the annoying voice.

By the time Wyn reappeared at dusk on his eighth full day as a frog, he was so hungry that he couldn't see straight.

"How you doing, froggie?" she asked, hovering above his head, just a fuzzy green blob in his vision.

Thomas thought the green blob very comforting and stared at it as it buzzed in little circles, making some sort of noise. He blinked and slipped a bit more into the water.

"Froggie?"

Even his instincts had hushed now, leaving him in blessed silence.

"Thomas?" Wyn asked, now really worried.

He didn't respond. She flew in a tight circle around him, then put a cautious hand on his face. He didn't flinch. She pulled her hand back like she'd been stung and stared at him for a minute before shaking her head in disgust and disbelief.

"I didn't think he'd be that much of an uppity brat," she muttered to herself, flying away.

The green blob disappeared, but Thomas didn't really care. Everything was silent. He wasn't even hungry anymore. He liked the feeling of being suspended in the water, even if it was dirty. The sky darkened, but there were no stars. Thomas realized, uncaring, that it was his vision darkening, not the sky.

He contemplated that dying didn't hurt very much.

"Eat this," a high pitched voice said next to him.

He smelled bugs and kept his lips tightly shut, even when Wyn tried to pry them open.

"I should let you starve," she said, words light, though her tone was anxious.

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and a moment later the green fairy was gone, replaced with a human the size of a fox. She prized his mouth open and dropped a handful of smashed flies into it. When he started to choke she wordlessly gestured at his mouth and the flies slipped down his throat.

"Now, idiot, eat," she said with a sudden grin. "That wasn't so bad, was it? Your survival instincts must be completely shot. Did someone squish your egg, froggie?"

"I'm a human," he managed to mutter, though he still felt very woozy. "And I don't eat bugs."

"You're a frog," Wyn corrected, closing her eyes and returning to her smaller, fairy form. "And you do eat bugs. You eat them, or you die."

"I almost died, didn't I?" Thomas said, looking interested.

"Yes, you did," Wyn said cheerily. "It's a good thing Wyn was here to save the damsel in distress."

Before Thomas could protest to being called a damsel, she vanished.

* * *

Large amounts of poofy fabric blocked the door of the carriage, effectively cutting off any view Jared might have had of the arriving girl. He stood on tiptoe, trying to see over the monstrosity of a dress that Gloria had been forced into that morning. It was large enough in volume to completely conceal a small child beneath its skirts, and even the beautiful shade of peach wasn't enough to condone it in Gloria's eyes. As she had so elegantly said earlier that morning,

"With this dress, I could smuggle ten armed soldiers into the palace, and no one would be the wiser."

Jared, after one look at the dress, speechless for once in his life, agreed. He did not have any idea why fashions demanded such a bulky dress. He was informed that the bulky dresses were only for the morning and tea, and all evening events demanded dresses with much less poof to them. After a long dissertation on why it would cost the country less money if they allowed the same fashion for the entire day, they were interrupted by Alexis' arrival, which left him where he was now, craning his neck to see Alexis but finding it impossible.

"Gloria, budge your—bu...stle," he cried, quickly changing words halfway through when he saw both sets of parents watching him keenly. "I'd like to see Alexis sometime _today."_

The girls didn't appear to hear him, chunnering away between themselves so rapidly that he couldn't hear where one girl's sentence ended and the other's began. After several pointed coughs, Gloria stepped down from the carriage and drew Alexis out by the hand. Her parents were already being greeted by Gloria and Jared's parents.

"Alexis," Jared said, his long speech about the treasure of unwasted time forgotten when his eyes met Alexis's, albeit briefly. She dropped her gaze shyly.

"Hello, Jared," she said softly.

"It's—I mean—I—It's nice to see you again," he stuttered. He looked unsure whether to hold out his hand or embrace her, and was left in an awkward position of doing nothing at all. Gloria savored the awkwardness for a full fifteen seconds before she broke it.

"The horses are already saddled. Our parents said we could go looking for the waterfall right away, if you wanted to."

"Yes, let's!" Alexis said quietly, though her eyes sparkled in excitement. "I must change my clothes right away, then we can go. Adrian, would you bring my clothes trunk up to the spare bedroom right away?"

"It's the second bedroom on the left as you go up the stairs," Jared informed the man unloading the carriage. "You can't lose your way. It's the yellow room."

"Lexie, what are you telling Adrian to do?" Alexis' mother asked, disentangling herself from the long greetings she was receiving from Lady Tiroe.

"Lady Carter," Jared said, taking her arm and smiling winningly. "Welcome to Greyson. I trust your journey was a comfortable one?"

"Yes, it was," the tall, pretty woman said, temporarily distracted from her query and smiling back at Jared. "And how are you, Lord Tiroe?"

"Better than Lady Alexis, I would think," he said seriously. "It seems her legs are stiff from the long journey. We were just discussing riding into the woods together – if it was alright with you and Sir Carter, of course. We would never think of running off without your knowledge, as I hope you know."

"Welcome to Greyson, Lady Carter," Gloria said, expertly wedging her comment as Jared took breath to continue. "Would you allow us to take a ride?"

Lady Carter looked hesitant, but after a few perfunctory questions of Alexis' well-being, and making sure the other two had permission, she allowed the trio to go for a ride.

"Thank you, Mama!" Alexis said, smiling and kissing her mother on the cheek.

The other two chorused their thanks as Gloria grabbed Alexis' hand.

"Come on, you must get changed!"

They started toward the house, then Gloria looked over her shoulder at Jared.

"Meet us in the stable," she said before ducking into the house.

"Yeah, fine," he muttered, stumping off to the stables. "Not like I did all the hard work of convincing Lady Carter or anything."

* * *

**Meet Alexis! And Thomas really is stubborn, isn't he? --shakes head sadly--**

EVA**: Huzzah! Speculation! Here's your raspberries and white chocolate. --hands them over-- I can't say you're perfectly correct, but you are rather close. Of course, the fun of this story is the predictability/cliché-ness, in my opinion. This is a cutesy story, for the most part, that has some subtle themes and messages for those who are looking for them. LOL? Well, LOL to you too, then.**

Mazkeraide**: Too true. Spunky is very overdone. She might be a little cliché, but this whole story kind of is, so I hope you can forgive me. I like her, though, so I don't think I'll be able to let her get too terrible. --white chocolate with raspberries for you, too-- You are basically psychic. How do you do that?**

Faylinn**: They're about 16 or so. They act a bit immature, though, as they don't really have to put up with much of anything, being noble's children. They'll grow up hard and fast pretty soon, though. But yeah, I see what you're saying; they probably did that 'going out' thing when they were younger, then abandoned it in favor of friendship. And now Gloria has Alexis to tease him about constantly, so that's a good thing, too. --grin--**

Forever Daydreaming**: Yes, that plotline is cute, but often done the same old way every time, which makes it dull, dull, dull. Nope. I've got my Prince Charming for this one. Jared's got his own lady-maid. Ah, teenagers. Not my favorite stage of childhood. The title really does suit him. He's such a toad, even in real life. --chuckle--**

Falchion**: Good guess! Have some chocolate with your raspberries. Wyn is fun to write. I like her. --grin--**

Darth Chocolate**: Good guesses! Have some chocolate with your raspberries.**

**Reviewers get a 100 Grand bar (previously known as the Hundred Thousand Dollar bar, but then it was shortened by us lazy Americans)!**


	11. Chapter 11

**26 . 11 . 08**

* * *

They rode into the woods on the path, which was wide enough to service two horses side by side. Gloria slyly stopped to adjust her stirrup before they went in, thus forcing the other two to ride next to each other while she rode happily behind. The fine spring day was not lost in the woods, which, though dense, were still brightly green. The light that filtered through the leaves was a pale yellow-green, making them all appear strange and otherworldly. Flowers blanketed the space between trees: tiny ones of blue, purple, white, and yellow were the most common.

On a mission, they explored all the different paths and kept a sharp eye for the pool that had eluded Jared and Gloria all year long. They skipped the paths the pair remembered searching, going deeper into the heart of the wood. While the wood wasn't very large by normal consideration, it seemed bigger to the three searchers as they climbed over crests and slid down grassy banks, splashing each other with water whenever they stopped at a pool. It was glorious, warm, magical day.

Jared and Alexis had continued down the path when Gloria stopped to look at a strange flower. After finding it to be a bluebell and a daisy twisted around each other, Gloria was about to climb back onto her horse when a sparkle caught her eye. Ducking her head between two trees, she spotted the glimmer again. Now curious, she looped her horse's reins around a low branch and squeezed between the two trees, keeping the sparkle in sight as she ducked around other trees and stepped over underbrush.

She squinted and almost tripped over a fallen tree, then found herself on the bank of a pond. Any other observations were cut short by the slimy green interruption.

"Hey, girl!"

"Hello?" Gloria said in confusion, looking around. There didn't appear to be anyone else in the clearing.

"Look down," the voice instructed, and Gloria found herself looking into the wide, black eyes of a frog. "I am the prince. You will take me home."

Gloria smiled at the frog bemusedly, raising her eyebrows.

"A prince, are you?"

"_Your_ prince," he corrected with a huff. "Prince Thomas Alphonse Samuel Windham."

"Indeed." She stifled a laugh. "I'm sorry, but I've met the prince and you don't look a thing like him."

"That would be because I was turned into a _frog_," he said with a measure of strained patience.

"That much is apparent."

"Peasant, have you learnt nothing of talking back to your betters?"

Gloria's amused face changed instantly. She dropped the frog rudely.

"Peasant? I'll have you know that I'm a lady. If you are the prince, you should have been taught better manners."

"You don't act like a lady," the frog said with a sniff. "Nor dress like one."

She looked down at her rough, dirty dress and flushed.

"One mustn't be dressed up all the time, especially when roaming through the woods."

"Gloria! Come on! I think we're almost there!"

"If you'll excuse me, _your highness_," she said sarcastically, "I'm being summoned."

She spun on her heel and stalked away from the pond.

"No! You cannot leave. You must take me with you."

Gloria didn't look back.

"What were you doing?" Jared asked when she caught up to them.

"Nothing," Gloria said stiffly. "I just thought I found the pond, but it wasn't it."

"Are you sure?" Alexis asked. "I did think it was right back there."

Gloria grabbed Jared's reins and yanked the horse back to the middle of the path before the boy got hit in the face with a branch.

"Pay attention," she snapped at him, conveniently avoiding Alexis' question.

The truth was, she wasn't sure if the pond she saw was the right pond or not – she hadn't given it a very thorough look-over. Talking frogs are very good distractions.

"What's got you in a grump?" he asked in surprise, taking the reins back and watching the road more than the woods.

"Nothing," Gloria repeated, glaring forward.

Alexis caught her eye and frowned, raising an eyebrow. _What's the matter?_ Alexis wanted to know. Gloria shook her head and rolled her eyes. _Don't worry about it,_ the gesture said. Alexis shrugged and smiled, but she didn't look unworried.

"Let's have a look at this pond of yours, Gloria," Jared said, stopping his horse and peering ahead. "None of this looks familiar."

"I think he's right," Alexis agreed quietly. "You know how these woods are..."

"Alright, fine," Gloria said, softening her annoyance. It was unfair to take out her irritation on them, after all.

The threesome turned their horses around with some difficulty on the narrow path, then headed back the way they'd come. Gloria blew out a quiet, defeated breath and followed them, hoping the frog was gone. Peasant! Bah! He was the green, slimy, bug eating one!

They tied their horses to low branches next to the path, then followed Gloria through the trees to the pond.

"Yes, this is it!" Alexis cried delightedly, skipping around to the other side of the waterfall. Jared was right behind her. "We sat right here and ate our pears," she said, pointing to the flat rock just far enough away from the small waterfall to avoid the spray. "Remember that?" she said eagerly, turning to Jared with a smile. "Oh, I was worried we wouldn't find it!"

She apparently didn't notice that she'd grabbed his hand in her excitement, but Gloria saw the pink on Jared's ears and grinned, knowing he'd noticed. Her good humor had been restored, and all thoughts of frogs were far from her mind.

"Alexis, you're embarrassing him," she chided, joining them.

Alexis flushed hotly and dropped Jared's hand. His fingers curled slightly, as if to clasp the hand that was now gone.

"I do believe this is the correct waterfall," Gloria said repentantly. "I'm sorry for being cross."

"You're only apologizing because Alexis is here," Jared said snidely. "If it was just me, she would have made out that coming here was her idea in the first place."

"No, that's what _you_ do," Gloria corrected, grinning at Alexis, who laughed brightly.

"I could see him doing that," Alexis admitted.

Jared looked gobsmacked.

"Milady, I am wounded," he said gravely, placing a hand over his chest.

Gloria laughed.

"You've had worse."

He stuck out his tongue but dropped his hand. They spent the rest of the afternoon eating the picnic lunch that Lady Tiroe had thoughtfully ordered to be packed for them and catching up on any happenings of significance. Alexis gave a firsthand account of what everyone in the capital thought of the royal children's disappearance. Engaged in this fascinating string of news, no one noticed a fairy giving a leg up to a frog trying to climb into Gloria's saddlebag.

"Good luck with the maiden," Wyn whispered, smoothing the wrinkles in the bag so it would appear undisturbed.

"'Good luck'? Good luck nothing! I order you to accompany me, peasant!" Thomas whispered fiercely.

"Oh, is that so?" Wyn asked, quirking a green eyebrow.

"Yes," Thomas said stiffly.

"Well, I wouldn't want to be jailed," Wyn said seriously, though there was a twinkle in her eye.

"I knew you would come around," Thomas said, with such an air of graciously understanding self-righteousness that it took some effort for Wyn not to laugh as she squeezed in beside him.

* * *

**Thomas and Wyn, ah. I love them. I hope you all think them half as amusing as I do.**

Faylinn**: I am feeling your pain. I've done the same thing. --pats on back-- I prefer to wait until things are finished, myself. But, alas. You felt sorry for Thomas? What a compassionate soul you are. As for the frogs bit: that's what I heard, however accurate it may or may not be. I really should have researched it, but I didn't. I might just do that now, however – at least a cursory scan. Yup, there are some species of frog that do that (such as a green tree frog). Weird, huh? Frogs are kinda cute. Fishing poles with hooks?! --gulp-- I'm glad I'm not a frog. Wyn is very nice. Perhaps too nice. Fashions are ridiculously ridiculous sometimes. I'm glad you like Alexis!**

Mazkeraide**: Ha, you are indeed made of awesome. That's a fantastic phrase, by the by. It sounds like something my brother might say. (That is a compliment, in case you weren't sure) Yay for comparative-not-bad-ness! Silly people do have strong willpowers. Huh. Never thought of it like that. How interesting. Thomas is about as silly as they come, and nearly as stubborn. Ha. Wyn would be a brilliant vampirate. Ah, yes. About APOP. I'm editing your chapter (and **Captain**'s, and **Raenad**'s) tonight, so expect an email later.**

Jmskitten04**: Welcome to the story! Oh, he's SO stubborn. Ugh. I'm glad you're liking my characters so far. Aw, I hope you aren't red-dye intolerant too... (Twizzlers ® should be safe, yes?)**

EVA**: Ah, vacations. Good for my muse, bad for my beta-ing. Thomas isn't terribly admirable, all things considering, though he has potential. Not-thanking people would be one of his faults. --sigh-- Wyn is such an angel for putting up with him. Alexis and Jared are just so cute together! I hope you like Alexis more after seeing some more of her in this chapter...? Heh, storks, indeed. --chuckle--**

bellathedisenchanted**: Every chapter? Promise? --grin-- Well, I've got the plot mostly nailed down, but my muse usually throws twists in it as we go, and sometimes I end up going in a completely different direction than what I intended, so, we'll see what happens! Yes, that would make the story somewhat pointless, as they have to fall in love and have True Love's Kiss in order for the wishes to come and all that... but that's an interesting thought. Anyway, thanks for reviewing! I hope I keep hearing from you!**

**Reviewers get a bag of Pull'n'Peel Twizzlers ® , strawberry flavor!**

**EDIT: Thank you, **Mazkeraide**, for pointing out my typos!**


	12. Chapter 12

**12 . 12 . 08**

**Disclaimer: I stole the name 'Alton' from Alton Brown, off of **_**Good Eats**_**. It's an interesting show, and he has the best name.**

* * *

Any sensible girl would scream if she found a frog in her saddlebag. Gloria was many other things if not sensible, and one of those other things she happened to be was shrewd – too shrewd and observant to be a proper lady. She instantly recognized the frog she'd spoken to earlier, and nestled next to it was a smaller frog, more delicately fern-green. Without a word, she slipped them both into the inside pocket of her riding cloak.

"I'll see you both tomorrow!" Gloria called, waving to Jared and Alexis as they rode on toward Greyson estate.

They waved back at her, and she then ducked into the house and sneaked up to her room. She delicately tip-toed past the closed parlor door, holding her breath and hoping her mother wouldn't hear the creaking floorboard. She wanted to go upstairs and interrogate her captives before her pocket was too thoroughly slimed.

"Dinner is at half-past six, Miss Gloria," the butler, Alton, said to her.

She hushed him in a flurry of panic and listened to hear if her mother had gotten up from her chair in the parlor. Faint bits of conversation leaked under the door; her parents were discussing the missing children again.

"Thank you," she whispered to Alton, who was smiling at the girl's antics. "What time is it?"

"Six o'clock, miss," Alton said in a low voice.

"Consternation," she whispered, looking behind her to be sure her mother wasn't going to appear.

She hastily ghosted up the steps and into her room. She bolted the door securely behind her, then turned her pockets out on the hardwood floor.

"What do you want, then?" Gloria asked, hands on her hips. "Have you come to apologize for your rude remark?" She glanced at the other frog who looked unperturbed. "And who is this? Is this is your talking frog friend?"

"You deserved that title for your coarse dress and speech," the frog said imperiously. "This frog is my assistant."

"You have a little frog servant to do your bidding?" Gloria laughed. "How cute. It's almost like you really think you're the prince."

Gloria knew she was goading him, but she couldn't help it. She loved seeing him puff up in indignation.

"I _am_ the prince. Now, I order you to take me home."

Gloria almost choked on the irony of the situation. Before she could answer, someone knocked on the door.

"Miss Gloria, it's time to get dressed for dinner," Gloria's maid, Jennifer, said.

"Ah!"

Gloria stifled a yelp and snatched the two frogs off the floor. She looked around her room wildly for a moment, ("Put me down, peasant!") then overturned a bowl and shoved the two frogs underneath it.

"What right has she to throw me about like this?" Thomas asked Wyn in a low voice.

"She's just trying to keep you out of sight," Wyn said, changing back into her fairy form. "Whew. I don't like being a frog."

"Neither do I!" Thomas exclaimed, and he heard a momentary pause in the wordless murmur outside the bowl.

"Keep your voice down, froggie," Wyn said, tapping him on the head. "You're going to cause mass hysteria."

"Why? I'm the prince." An idea occurred to him as he heard the maid ask Gloria what dress she wanted to wear. "The maid might be willing to help me!"

He drew breath to shout, but the next thing he knew, there was a tightening around his throat and he couldn't expel any air. He tried to cough, but he couldn't even do that.

"Froggie, you don't have a brain," Wyn informed him. With a small gesture, he could breathe again. "Don't shout for help. Gloria is your best shot at the moment. Besides, the maid wouldn't know where it was coming from, anyway. She'd probably send someone outside."

"You have a point," Thomas said grudgingly.

They waited through dinner without talking. Thomas was brooding, but Wyn hummed a song Thomas had never heard. Finally, they heard the door opening, and moment later the bowl was lifted off of them.

"It's about time," Thomas said nastily.

"You're in no position to be rude," Gloria said, raising an eyebrow at him infuriatingly. "Unless you answer my questions, I'll dump you and your _assistant_ outside my chamber door. If the maids don't squash you, you'll be kicked out the back door into the cold, and the barn cats will get you."

The threat, coupled with Gloria's no-nonsense tone, actually set Thomas back a pace. He carefully considered his words, something he was unaccustomed to doing. His lack of experience made him slower. Wyn was silent next to him, waiting for an answer.

"I... will answer your questions," he said in a low voice, and he suddenly felt like crying.

He was hungry, tired, lost, no one was being nice to him, and, by the _crown_, he was thirsty!

"If I may," he said quickly, "may Wyn and I have some water?"

It left a bad taste in his mouth to treat an impudent peasant with such cordiality, but the thirst was beginning to make his thoughts rather — _Water!_ — disjointed.

"Well, since you're being so polite, I suppose I could do that," Gloria said with evident surprise. "Wyn, is it? So you're a girl, then?"

The other frog nodded and hopped onto Gloria's outstretched hand. Gloria smiled and poured some water leftover from that morning into the bowl. Thomas hopped in, splashing Wyn and Gloria both. Wyn slipped in with much more grace.

"Thank you," Thomas said shortly.

He wasn't used to using manners unless he was trying to get something, and he was starting to get aggravated at his helpless position.

"What questions have you, peasant?"

"Firstly," Gloria said, bristling anew, "I am not a peasant. I am a lady. You're the lowlier of two of us, being a frog."

"I am Prince Thomas!" he protested angrily.

"I don't care whether you're the king himself or a stableboy. Right now, you're a frog, and you're going to get eaten or stepped on if you don't remember that."

They glared at each other for a few moments before she broke the silence again.

"Okay, as for my questions, how did you come to be a frog in the first place?"

Thomas opened his mouth to speak, but found he couldn't speak. He glared at Wyn, but she shook her head innocently. He tried again, but again he couldn't speak. He could still breathe, though, unlike earlier when Wyn was keeping him from shouting.

"I don't think I can say," Thomas said in frustration.

"Magic spell," Gloria said knowledgeably, though she knew nothing of magic other than what she'd heard in not-necessarily-accurate stories. "Well, what do you plan to do now?"

She picked up the bowl and set it down on her night table before sitting on the edge of her bed and tilting her head slightly. The frogs looked pretty cute floating around in the shallow water. She smiled a little.

"Get back to the palace, of course," Thomas said impatiently.

"Then what? You're a frog, remember? The maids there will set the cats on you as quickly as ours will."

"Then—then I'll—" Thomas faltered. He hadn't thought that far ahead. "Then I'll bring in the magic workers and have them reverse the spell!" he declared triumphantly.

"You're going to have to convince someone that you're the prince before they'll listen to you," Gloria said practically.

Thomas had had quite enough of this forward girl who second-guessed everything he said.

"Someone will listen to me," he said hotly.

"Before or after they scream?" Gloria shot back.

"I'm the prince!"

"Is that your answer to everything?" Gloria said, throwing her hands up in frustration. "One day you're going to learn that being the prince doesn't mean that life is always perfect for you, especially when you're a _frog_."

Thomas maintained a frosty silence. Gloria took a deep breath.

"Anyway," she said softly, not wishing to upset him more than necessary.

Someone was going to come knocking on her door with they got too loud, and she couldn't very well say she was having a shouting match with herself.

"Anyway, the point I'm trying to make is that no one is going to listen to you at the palace. Maybe—"

"Are you telling me I'll never be turned back into a human?" Thomas said narrowing his eyes. "To get used to life as a frog? Because I can assure you that continuing my existence as a frog is not something I'm willing to resign myself to."

"No, I was going to say that maybe you could find a sorceress or fairy in the wood," Gloria said with annoyance at his interruption. "They could help you same as those at the palace, I should think, and they might be more willing to listen."

"I was wondering when you were going to think of that, clever Lady," Wyn said, making them both jump.

They'd all but forgotten she was there. The frog was gone, replaced by a delicate green fairy with translucent wings. She was barefooted and sitting on the edge of the bowl, smiling. Gloria tried to conceal her surprise as Thomas spoke.

"Wyn, you're a fairy," he said, looking at Wyn with new eyes.

"I am," she agreed, dabbling her toes in the water.

Thomas stared at her as if expecting something to happen. Gloria further observed the fairy during the pause. She'd never seen one before and she was fascinated. Her wings were like a dragonfly's, narrow and pearly with green and blue veins. Her skin and hair were both green, and her eyes were a shining emerald. She was tiny and perfect, like a statue of opaque glass.

"Change me back!" Thomas finally said, startling Gloria.

"Is that any way to talk to the fairy who might be able to make you human again, froggie?" Wyn said playfully.

He considered his words again, liking it less than before.

"Please change me back," he said, tight-lipped.

"Very well," Wyn said cheerfully, putting a tiny, fragile hand on the side of his face and staring deeply into his eyes.

Three tight seconds passed, and neither of them moved as Gloria looked on with interest. Suddenly, Wyn laughed and fell backward into the water with a graceful plop.

"What is so funny?" Thomas demanded.

The sage-green fairy was laughing so hard that she inhaled a mouthful of water and began to choke. Gloria, alarmed, fished the fairy out of the water and began to lightly tap her back with a finger until she regained her breath.

"Are you alright?" Gloria asked the still chuckling fairy.

"_What_ are you laughing at?" Thomas snapped, thoroughly out of temper with the entire situation.

He felt like big green jewels were boring into his soul, and he didn't like it.

"Your—the spell," Wyn managed, finally getting control of her giggles. "I can't unravel it. Whoever cast the spell cast their knots tightly."

"I fail to see the humor in that observation," Thomas said sourly.

"That's not all," Wyn assured him, and a giggle leaked out with her next words. "To break the spell, you have to be—oh, heehee—you have to convince a maiden to kiss you!"

"That won't be hard," Thomas said confidently, a bit of a smug smile creeping onto his face. "My charms have earned me kisses before."

"You also weren't green before," Gloria said, eye twinkling in merriment when she imagined Thomas hopping after Helen demanding a kiss.

"My lady, would you kiss me?"

Gloria blinked four times in quick succession.

"What?" she said, wrinkling her nose.

"I asked you if you would kiss me, please," Thomas said humbly.

"Ha! Hahaha—!"

She slapped a hand over her mouth to stifle the loud noise, but she ended up snorting which sent Wyn into gales of laughter all over again. Gloria then lost her composure entirely.

"My lady, are you alright?" a muffled voice from the other side of the door asked.

"Just fine, Gabby," Gloria called out, her voice wobbling a bit with restrained laughter.

"Must be that book," Gabby muttered, and continued down the hall.

"Would you care to tell me what proves so amusing _now?_" Thomas said with admirable patience.

"That you think—haha!—I'm going to kiss you," Gloria laughed, "just because you—heehee—turned on the charm now! No, Thomas, or whoever you are. I'm not going to kiss you. I think a few months of being a frog will do you a world of good."

"You're quite wise, my lady," Wyn said, lighting on Gloria's shoulder and tugging a lock of hair affectionately. "I like you."

"That makes one of us," Thomas said, moody again, now that it was clear he wasn't getting a kiss from her. "I don't suppose you'd kiss me, Wyn?"

"I agree with the lady," Wyn said, crossing her arms and grinning sympathetically at him. "You need some time as a frog to knock you back a few paces.

Thomas cut such a dejected figure, making ripples in the water with his frog toes, that Gloria began to feel a bit sorry for him.

"Chin up, Thomas," Gloria said, resting her chin on her palm. "Being a frog isn't so bad."

"You think I'm going to stay as a frog?" Thomas said. "I'm going to find a girl to kiss me. Maybe that friend of yours isn't such a little girl."

"Excuse me, I'm not a little girl," Gloria said, "and even using that as an insult is immature. Stay away from my friend, frog."

"Fine, I don't need her anyway."

"Fine."

"And when I get back to the palace, I'll make sure your family is never invited to another ball."

"Ooh, I'm so scared," she said with a mock gasp. "I'll never have to look at your ugly face again."

Thomas didn't reply, and neither of them said a word for the rest of the night. Thomas stayed in the water to sleep, but Wyn lighted happily in the flower arrangement on Gloria's desk. She was gone when Helen ran through the door the next morning in tears.

* * *

**Heh. I love writing them bickering. It's too much fun.**

Mazkeraide**: Whoops. --looks abashed-- ****Thanks for noticing that; you have a shout-out now****. Made of ridiculous, indeed. Ridiculous, and arrogant, and just plain annoying. Ugh. Ah, that makes sense. Wyn is a vampirate, so she hitches a ride to the nearest rich person's house. Clever.**

Bingo7**: I sort of agree with you. But, she's also been born and bred to be a lady, even if she's not altogether fond of the idea all of the time. Aren't they adorable? Teehee.**

Jmskitten04**: Wyn is the best! --chuckle--**

Forever Daydreaming**: Heh, I hope Gloria wouldn't marry a frog. That would be... odd. --laugh-- Thomas has a lot to learn.**

bellathedisenchanted**: Yay! Oh, don't be jumpy. I reply to everyone. --smile-- You feel sorry for Thomas? You're a wonderful person. --laugh-- I'm not sure Alexis would really be jealous; she doesn't seem the type, really.**

EVA**: Well, I'm glad I'm not boring you! Oh, and someone noticed that Soleil was missing. Well. --secretive smile-- I promise I haven't forgotten about her. You'll see her again. Jared and Alexis are too cute. I think Jared might like her more at this point, but she does like him. However, she was very excited and distracted at the time, so she didn't notice what she was doing right away; she just sort of reacted. And embarrassed Jared. --chuckle-- Gloria's sweet too. I'm glad you're enjoying it!**

Darth Chocolate**: His manners will get better... in time. Heh.**

**Reviewers get a piece of shortbread with strawberry jam on top!**


	13. Chapter 13

**24 . 12 . 08**

* * *

It took almost ten minutes to get Helen calm enough to speak clearly.

"Alexis is gone!" she hiccoughed, wiping her streaming eyes.

"What?" Gloria gasped, eyes wide. "What do you mean?"

"When everyone at Greyson woke up, Alexis was gone!" Helen said, clearly frightened out of her wits. "Her horse is gone from the stables, too. They've been searching for her since before dawn, but they haven't found her yet."

"Calm down, Helen," Gloria said soothingly, embracing her sister. "They'll find her. She can't have gone far. She probably just went for a ride and got lost."

"But what if she's hurt? What if she went into the woods _alone_? There are wolves—!"

"Don't borrow trouble," Gloria reprimanded softly, then had a thought. "Have you seen Jared this morning?"

"He sent me to get you," Helen said. "Alton refused to let Gabby wake you up. I had to sneak past them."

"What time is it?" Gloria asked, yawning.

"Just past dawn," Helen said. "Jared was searching with the men until they sent him back to get some breakfast. Mother is having Jennifer make something for him, and he wanted you there."

"Poor Jared," Gloria breathed, standing up. "I'll be right down. Tell Jared not to leave until I get there."

"Okay," Helen said, wiping her eyes and leaving.

"Did you hear that, Thomas? Wyn?" Gloria asked after she was sure Helen was out of earshot.

There was no reply.

"Thomas?" she asked, pulling on her nightrobe.

There was still no answer. She peered into the bowl; it was empty.

"Humph," she said. "Good riddance to him."

She got dressed as quickly as she could in her simplest dress, knowing that Jennifer was otherwise engaged in making Jared something delicious that he probably wouldn't eat. She was tying her hair back as she ran down the steps, and so she nearly forgot to open the door before she ran into it.

Once outside, she collided with Jared, who was pacing nervously on the front porch. They toppled down the three steps and landed, Jared on top of Gloria, on the gravel path.

"Oww," Gloria moaned, letting go of Jared's shirt; she'd grabbed it instinctively when they fell.

Jared loosened his hold on Gloria's arms and stood up, holding a hand out for Gloria. She grabbed it and heaved herself upright, noticing how strong he was becoming. He had his sleeves pushed up to his elbows, and a few minor scratches showed he was part of the crew searching the woods.

"Why were you standing right there?" she asked him, wincing as she gingerly rubbed her hip.

"I was waiting for you," Jared said tersely.

"There's no need to stand that close unless you're waiting to spring on me," Gloria said, but her tone softened when she realized his head was elsewhere.

"They haven't found her yet?"

"No," he said shortly, rubbing his elbows where they'd scraped the gravel. "But her horse came galloping out of the woods just a few minutes ago. That was her favorite horse: the most loyal horse you've ever seen. He wouldn't have left her unless—"

He grabbed her hand and rested his forehead on her knuckles, an impulsive gesture that showed Gloria just how upset he was.

"Sssh, ssh," Gloria said, running her fingers through his sweaty hair. "I'm sure they'll find her."

He didn't reply. He just shook his head and squeezed her hand harder. Gloria scrunched her mouth up. She'd never seen him so distraught. But, nothing terrible ever happened to them. Their little world was perfect. Maybe she was more like Thomas than she wanted to admit. Now that something terrible had happened, she wanted to shout at the world until it made everything right. She wanted to believe that if she ignored the problem, it would go away.

She gave Jared an awkward one-armed hug and rested her cheek on his hair, breathing with him.

At least she had someone to hold onto.

* * *

Jared searched with the men all day, but Gloria was forbidden from helping. She almost threw a fit, but when her parents refused to budge, she retreated sulkily to the front porch and waited for Jared to return. People were running in and out of Gloria's house all day, as it was the house closer to the woods. Lord and Lady Carter stayed most of the day there, talking with the Monterios and waiting for news. They didn't find her that night.

And, Jared didn't return with the searchers. His horse returned riderless after dark.

Gloria was given permission to walk the boundary of the woods the following day, in case either of them stumbled out. This was only gained after she apologized for her bad behavior of the previous day and pointed out that no one was waiting for them if they found her way out on her own. It was dull work, walking along the treeline and calling for Alexis, but Gloria much preferred it to sitting at home and doing nothing.

"Gloria!"

Gloria almost tripped over a tree root in surprise.

"Jared?" she called, heart rising.

She ran toward the trees.

"No, it's Thomas," the voice said. "Ah! Be careful!"

Gloria stopped just short of stepping on him. Her heart plummeted just as quickly as it had risen. It was only Thomas.

"You might be a little more careful," he said, sounding cross.

"Sorry," she snapped sarcastically. "I'm not normally on the lookout for talking frogs. Have you seen Jared? Or Alexis? They've been missing since yesterday. They think Alexis went into the woods, and Jared disappeared trying to find her."

"Is that where she rode off to?" he said unconcernedly. "I haven't seen her today. Or the boy, either."

"Today? You saw her yesterday? What was she—"

Gloria froze, remembering Thomas's statement of a few nights ago. _Maybe that friend of yours isn't such a little girl._

"You!" she cried, turning on him with sudden wrath.

If Thomas could have hopped backward, he would.

"She rode off into the woods because _you_ were pestering her, didn't she?"

Without waiting for a reply, Gloria threw her hands up in the air and spun completely around, evidence of her shocked revelation.

"Oh, mercy, Thomas!" she said, pushing hair out of her eyes and looking at him like she'd never seen him before. "This is all your fault."

"It was not my fault that she rode into the woods," Thomas said impertinently.

"Oh, but it is," Gloria said in a low voice, kneeling down so her face was closer to his. "It's your fault that my two best friends vanished in the woods. Get out."

"What?" Thomas said.

"I said 'Get out,'" Gloria said, more vehemently. "Get out of here. I never, _ever_ want to see your miserable froggy face _ever again._"

She stood up and ran toward home, stifling sobs as she went. Thomas watched her go, then heaved a sigh and began hopping toward the main road.

"I'll make it home eventually," he reasoned. "Once I'm on the road, it shouldn't be too hard."

* * *

**The road goes ever one and on, down from the door where it began...**

Faylinn**: Oh, um, sorry. --shuffles feet a bit-- I just wrote it because I thought it sounded clever. You're right, though. Proper ladies aren't ridiculous – not the ones worth their salt, anyhow. Soleil will be coming back eventually: before the end of the story. --grin--**

Mazkeraide**: Heh, yeah. It seemed like something they'd do. And Wyn definitely needs an excuse to plunder the house. You'll notice her conspicuous disappearance at the end of last chapter?**

EVA**: Austen-ian! Huzzah! I love Austen, and you just made my day by comparing that passage to her. Thank you! Chin up, EVA! You know he ends up being mostly decent, though he was a bit odd in Nasap, but that's mostly because he had a lack-of-communication thing going on.**

Bingo7**: I hope he learns something, preferably before he's run over by a wagon or eaten by a dog.**

Forever Daydreaming**: You're not kidding. Same here. Ha! And that is a great image; the best part of it is he would do it. Teehee.**

**Reviewers get a cup of Chinese hot and sour soup!**

**EDIT: Thank you, **EVA**, for pointing out my inconsistencies!**


	14. Chapter 14

**15 . 1 . 09**

**Sorry for the very long delay! I'm not sure I like how this one turned out, so let me know if something seems off, please. Thanks for reading!**

* * *

"You still haven't found anything?" Gloria asked her father as he walked through the door.

It had been a week since Jared and Alexis had both disappeared into the woods, and Gloria had been forced to remain indoors for most of it.

"Nothing, Gloria. I'm sorry," Jethro replied.

He gave her a hug that she halfheartedly returned. A week was a long time to be lost in the woods without horses or much food.

"We'll find them," Jethro said. "Don't worry."

Gloria remembered saying the same words to Jared the morning before he disappeared too. It was getting harder to believe that with every day that passed. She would run in there after them if it wasn't for Helen; she knew her sister would follow her, and Gloria didn't want her to get hurt. She was at an impasse. She couldn't pretend everything was okay when it wasn't, and she couldn't do anything about it.

She went back up to her bedroom and flopped back on the bed. She'd spent the entire day embroidering with her mother and Lady Carter; she needed a break. As she lay there, eyes closed, she suddenly had an idea. She sat up. With all the hullaballoo, she'd forgotten about someone that might be able to help them find Alexis and Jared. Wyn had disappeared the same morning Alexis did, but maybe if she called for her...

_How does magic work, anyway? Will she be able to hear me?_

She opened her window and stuck her head out, watching the searchers head home for the evening as the sun sunk below the horizon. Gloria cupped her hands around her mouth and called Wyn's name three times. She waited, hoping for some sort of sign. There was nothing.

She called again, and still there was no answer.

"Why would a fairy come when a human calls, anyway," she muttered to herself, ignoring her sinking heart. "They only do what they want. Everyone knows that."

She fell asleep before dinner was called and dreamt of wolves and trees.

* * *

"What have we here? A frog in my room? I should complain. This inn came highly recommended."

Calloused hands picked Thomas up, imprisoning him. His half-asleep brain was reminded of his first day as a frog, when Soleil had captured him like that. In panic, he struggled.

"Oh, calm down," the woman's voice said. "I'm just going to take you outside. One moment."

Her fingers stroked his back comfortingly, and he settled down, cursing his misfortune. He'd been hoping to stay undisturbed in this room for the night.

"Aww, you're cute," the woman said. "In a ... slimy sort of way."

Thomas tried to turn his head so he could see her, but all he managed to glimpse was brown hair. He missed having a neck sometimes. She misinterpreted this as struggling and stroked his head again.

"Ssh, ssh," she said. "Let's get you back outside."

Thomas was starting to get very thirsty in the lady's hands, and he knew there was no water outside, perhaps in the stables... but that was likely to be full of hay and horse spit. There was a nice pitcher of water right over there, if he could just – _water! – _get to it. He squirmed ferociously; the lady made a small yelp of surprise. She barely caught him before he flew toward the pitcher.

"Now, just hold on," she chastised.

_Water!_ He struggled again, focusing completely on the pitcher of water So thirsty. _Water!_

The lady froze. She lifted him up to her eye level.

"Did you just speak?"

"Water," he croaked again, then his eyes widened. Of all the things to say! "Pardon me," he coughed. "I would like some water before you put me out of doors, if you please."

The woman screamed and dropped him.

"Ouch!" Thomas cried, righting himself. "Well, you don't have to!"

"Sheaves of wheat, you're _talking!_"

"Yes, I am."

Strangely, he was finding the woman's shock amusing rather than aggravating. He thought Gloria would find it – _water! – _hilarious.

"May I have some water?"

The woman screamed again and fled the room, slamming the door behind her. Thomas hopped over to the pitcher and, after some difficulty, jumped neatly in. _Is this how all women treat talking frogs?_ he asked himself. _Gloria was much quieter about it..._ The image of her furious, hurt face broke into clarity in his memory, but he shook his head.

"That was not my fault," he insisted.

A part of him was about to suggest that perhaps he had _encouraged_ Alexis to ride into the woods, but then the door opened again.

"It was talking, Tom!"

The woman's voice echoed, slightly watery, to Thomas through the mouth of the pitcher.

"I heard you the first time," Tom replied.

Thomas knew instantly that he was in danger. His frog instincts were going haywire. He tried not to make a noise, slipping almost beneath the waterline.

"Where is it?" Tom asked.

_Him,_ Thomas corrected mentally.

"I don't know," the woman said, obviously distraught. "I dropped it over there and ran to find you."

"You didn't think to put it in something?"

"Tom! It was a talking frog!"

"That's exactly why you should have captured it somehow. This could make us!"

Tom was searching under the bed, as best as Thomas could tell. He hoped she wouldn't remember that he'd asked for water. If they moved a little further away, he could hop out of the pitcher and out the door, then hopefully he could lose them in the crowd downstairs.

He tried not to think about all the heavy boots there would be in the crowd.

"Oh!" she cried. "He wanted water!"

Thomas didn't wait for them to locate the pitcher. He leaped, clearing the mouth of the pitcher and landing on the ground at Tom's feet.

_Oops._

The man lunged for him, the woman screamed, and Thomas jumped toward the door, barely avoiding Tom. It was closed! _Underneath!_ He was halfway under the door when something grabbed his back legs. The next thing he knew, he was dangling upside down, struggling for all he was worth (which was, incidentally, quite a lot) in front of a man with moss green eyes.

"Is this it, Essie?" he asked. The upside-down woman to the left nodded.

And thus began the imprisonment of Prince Thomas – now Marvelo, The Only Talking Frog In All Of Ladyra.

* * *

**I love the name Marvelo. Ha. Anyway, opinions? What do you think of Tom and Essie? Gloria?**

Bingo7**: Bleeding? Do frogs bleed? Hum. --makes mental note to research-- Now now, do I ever divulge information when I'm supposed to? --chuckle--**

bellathedisenchanted**: Half-pity is alright. --grin-- We sort of half-learn from Thomas and Gloria that Thomas was probably harassing Alexis to kiss him and she got so frustrated with him that she went riding into the woods to avoid him – and consequently disappeared. Basically.**

EVA**: Ack! I agree. What an odd position. I knew what I was saying, but I wasn't describing it right, because I wasn't even picturing it in my head! I fixed it, and it should be better now. I even gave you a shout-out. Thanks for pointing it out! I love their relationship. It's kind of bittersweet, seeing how formal their friendship has become in Nasap. --sad sigh-- But, wonderful childhood friends aren't often kept for life, especially when one of them marries and moves away, while the other marries and stays put! But, enough reminiscing about the future, back to your review. Oh, I also fixed the bit about Gloria and Jared, though I might touch it up further. Thank you for the help! Yes, she might have. But, she was upset, so I suppose we can forgive her, even as we sigh and shake our heads.**

Mazkeraide**: Clearly! How clever of you to find out. And yes, the pirate-Redwall complex is very strange, but, hey, it sold books for Brian Jacques, didn't it? --chuckle-- Despite their oversimplified plot lines, I really do like Redwall. Were you reading them in the order that he wrote them, or in chronological order? I tried to read them the order he wrote them and realized that the first ten books he wrote are basically all the same. However, if you read them chronologically, the identical books are spaced out a bit more. He was trying to avoid readers' rage, perhaps...**

Pimpernel Princess**: Ha, he does a bit. Remind me of Isabelle, I mean. Although she has this good streak buried not so deep down, whereas Thomas's is... much harder to unearth. Though, it is getting there. Slowly. Ha! I'm glad you liked that line. I have an unfortunate habit of making all my characters like to read. That's something I need to break. Well, actually, Faidn doesn't. And I'm not sure Carvin cares. Well, all the girls then, that's for sure. Ugh. I hate it when that happens. Anyway! On with your review! Oh, you're very welcome for the soup. I hope it helped your stitched gums. I'll take your ideas for Thomas into consideration... especially the pond for destitute froggies. Heehee.**

Forever Daydreaming**: I know, isn't he terrible? **

Falchion**: He is an idiot. And you'll see, I promise. --smile--**

**Reviewers get a waffle from the fair, piping hot and topped with powdered sugar and any jelly of your choice.**


	15. Chapter 15

**7 . 2 . 09**

**Okay, this is the first time I've typed anything up in absolutely ages, so please forgive me if it seems off. Please point out any odd places, though, so I can fix it up. I'm trying (rather fruitlessly, I'm afraid) to draw Cadmus out of his half-zombie-like stage. He looks so disturbing right now, I think he might be scaring the characters away. --pitiful chuckle--**

* * *

Tom's band of gypsies traveled all the time. They would do four or five shows a day, stopping in towns or private homes of nobles along the road. Thomas's part in the show was, of course, to say a few words and astound the audience. Needless to say, Thomas found the idea degrading and refused to talk.

His view was adjusted, however, when Tom threatened to fry him, and actually started warming a pan over the fire. Thomas then decided that it was in his best interest to cooperate until such a time as he could escape. He was kept in a secure wooden cage with a bowl of mostly-clean water, but he was left to fend for himself on the food side of things.

"You can't expect me to catch flies for you," Essie had said, in between gales of laughter and snorting.

This, too, became easier with time. By the time they stopped at a noble's house late one evening, he was catching insects without thinking. He snagged a mosquito out of the air by a gypsy's arm while he listened to Tom negotiate with the butler. As much as he wanted to hate the leader of the troupe, he found that he couldn't.

Tom ran the show to provide for his family (he and Essie had three children) and the families of all involved. Everyone got an equal share of the profits, and he knew Essie often gave portions of their share to other families with more young children who couldn't work. Tom had to know of his wife's generosity, and he never said anything about it. Thomas had cautiously brought up the subject once, when Tom made a side comment about being sure there was more money in the sack the night before. Tom gave Thomas a long look.

"I know where it's gone," he said, with a smile lingering behind his eyes. "But a man likes to complain."

"If you just told her you couldn't afford it—" Thomas had started, but Tom laughed, cutting him off.

"But we can. It's they who can't afford not having it."

That had given Thomas a lot to think about. Despite their bad start, Thomas had grown to admire the man. The band treated the newcomer as an animal, albeit one with a semi-reasoning mind. Thomas never corrected them, thinking the band would be all too eager to take him home and demand a hefty ransom. (He tried to play dumb, to confirm their suspicions, but he knew Tom wasn't fooled. True to form, however, the man kept his secret.)

A few days ago, he might have demanded that they take him to the castle at once, but... now he wasn't so sure he wanted to go home right away. Being Marvelo was a fun experience, after he got used to being treated like a common frog. And, he thought, this way he got to tour much of the country in safety. He still contemplated escaping, because his conscience was niggling at him about the mess he'd been a part of at the Monterios. Jared and Alexis were probably safe at home by now, but Gloria's disappointment haunted him.

Though, he tried to convince himself that it wasn't because of her that he would go back. After all, the room and board with the gypsies left much to be desired, anyway. It was only a matter of time before he escaped.

The butler that Tom had been talking to finally agreed to ask the man of the house, and a moment later they were shown into a spacious parlor. The man stayed in the room and watched them like a hawk as they prepared for the show, in case they were planning to steal any of the precious trinkets or paintings in the room.

Thomas sighed as a girl named Gabrielle fastened the cape around him. The costume was a definite proponent for leaving the company. She smiled as she perched a little hat on his head.

"There you go, Marvelo. You look smashing."

"Thanks," he said, rolling his eyes.

She knelt down and whispered to him.

"I've tried to convince Tom to let you wear something else, but he likes the faux gold."

"What did you suggest? Plain black?" Thomas asked, surprised that Gabrielle would care for his feelings like that.

"Gold and red and silver," she corrected earnestly, though her eyes sparkled. "Don't you think that would be much more eye catching?"

"Much," he agreed, laughing.

Gabrielle always amused him. She said such ridiculous things with a straight face; it never ceased to make him laugh.

"If you do succeed in convincing him, I hope they change showers, because I would leave you high and dry on stage."

"Only because you'd faint of embarrassment," she laughed, winking.

"That might be true," he mused.

"Oh, I've got to go. Try to keep your hat on. I'll be back soon," she said, rushing off.

"Wouldn't it be a tragedy if I accidentally dropped it in a vase of flowers?" he called after her.

"Don't you dare!" she shouted, laughing.

* * *

As Gloria embroidered, she wondered – not for the first time – where Thomas was. She still felt bad about how she'd ordered him off like that. She'd been upset; it really wasn't all Thomas's fault.

_Though he did start it,_ Gloria thought darkly.

The next day, after she'd cooled down a little, she'd tried looking for him. The frog, however, was nowhere to be found. She looked at the waterfall, along the edge of the wood, and around the perimeter of the house, calling his name in case he was nearby. After a day of this, she gave up, assuming that he'd taken her threat seriously and had gone off on his own adventure.

Since then, she'd had terrible images of his being squashed by a carriage, caught by a dog, or picked up by a hawk. Thomas was unpleasant and selfish, but not incurably so. And, he wasn't a bad person all the way through. He didn't deserve to die because of her hot-headed ultimatum. He didn't really know better than to act the way he did; that wasn't an excuse for his actions, but – well, Gloria doubted that he'd _intentionally_ driven Alexis into the woods.

_I hope he's alright,_ Gloria thought, pricking her finger while she wasn't paying attention.

"Ah, blast," she muttered, sucking her finger.

"What?" Helen said, looking puzzled.

"I pricked my finger," Gloria explained around her finger, thinking her finger in her mouth would be explanation enough.

"Were you listening to anything I said?" Helen asked, her eyebrows shooting up with exasperation.

"No, sorry," Gloria said, wincing. This was not the first time she'd been so lost in her thoughts that she'd not heard someone speaking to her.

"I _said:_ Father's brought in gypsies!" Helen cried, beaming. "Come _on!_ I told you ten minutes ago and you said you'd be right down. You're going to miss the show! They're starting any minute now!"

Gloria looked around the small, upstairs parlor and realized her mother and father were both gone. She didn't remember them leaving, or replying to Helen. She must have been thinking hard. About Thomas. A bit of a blush pinked her cheeks as she put her embroidery down.

"Let's go, then!" she said, smiling at Helen and following her down the stairs.

Even though her thoughts had been heavy, she began to feel excited at the prospect of a gypsy show. They only traveled once a year in her area. Father loved the shows, though her mother was always worried they'd make off with some of her precious possessions. Gloria thought she was overreacting; after all, nothing had gone missing yet.

The show began with magic tricks, which held Gloria's attention well enough. By the time it had gotten to the singing, her mind was back to worrying about her three friends. She nodded and smiled whenever Helen elbowed her, exclaiming about one thing or another, but her mind was mostly in the woods, wondering if Alexis and Jared were together, wherever they were. But then, a familiar voice caught her ear. She whipped her head around from where she'd been staring at the left side of the impromptu stage without seeing it. At the center of the stage was a rather average-looking frog with a cape and tiny hat. At the gypsy girl's bidding, he spoke again.

"Good evening, lords and ladies," he said clearly.

Helen, who had been apparently too astonished to even jab her sister in the side then squealed.

"Oh, Gloria! How marvelous!"

"My name is Marvelo," the frog said, smiling an odd froggy smile.

"Thomas?" Gloria gasped, her eyes big as saucers.

She was so surprised she could hardly speak. Everyone looked at her, including the frog. Their eyes met for a moment, and then she burst into hysterical laughter.

"You look absurd," she spluttered.

Even though she wasn't thinking straight, and she knew it, she didn't expect him to laugh with her. The hat slid over his eyes, and they both laughed harder. For some reason, this was very funny. She was so relieved that he wasn't dead that she couldn't stop laughing, and her laughing made him laugh.

"What is the meaning of this?" Angelina said in a soft voice that cut through Gloria's uncontrollable giggles.

"A, uh, a, um," Gloria stuttered, trying to quell the laughter by not looking at Thomas. "May I have a word in, uh, private, please?" she said, trying to use her most proper language, as if that would keep her from a severe tongue lashing later.

Angelina took her daughter's arm wordlessly, and they left the room. Gloria heard the show begin again as her mother closed the door to the hallway.

"Well?" her mother asked, hands on her hips.

"I know him, Mother," Gloria said, trying not to sound unbelievable as she told the truth. "I found him in the wood on the day we went looking for the waterfall. He left, and I didn't think he would come back. As for my laughter: you have to admit he looks—"

Whatever she was going to say slid away with the approaching smile as she looked up into her mother's furious face.

"—ridiculous," she finished in a very small voice, looking down again, and waiting for her sentence.

"He did," her mother said, in a much more pleasant voice than Gloria had been expecting. She didn't dare look up, however. "It's a wise man who laughs at himself."

Gloria was too relieved that she had, at least temporarily, escaped trouble to correct her mother on Thomas's wisdom – or lack thereof. She decided that while she was already as close to death as she ever had been, she might as well push the envelope.

"May I buy him from the gypsies, please?" she asked, smiling her most winning smile. "I'll use my own Christmas money."

"Gloria! A frog is no pet for a lady!" her mother cried.

"I don't want him for a pet," Gloria said hastily. "I want to set him free. I just can't stand to think of him trapped like that, and put on display like some kind of... of... shiny trophy, or something!"

Her mother looked undecided.

"Please, mother?" she asked, quietly. "I promise you won't ever see him again."

After another hard look, her mother relented, on the condition that he would never set a slimy foot inside her house. When the show ended, Jethro arranged the purchase of Marvelo for a hefty sum – enough to support several gypsy families for many weeks.

"You're not getting a thing for your birthday this year," Jethro said seriously, handing her the cage. "This little thing cost a pretty penny."

"That's alright," she said, taking the cage and kissing her parents on both cheeks. "I'll be right back!"

"What are you doing, Gloria?" Helen asked, chasing after her as she ran to the back door.

"I'm going to have a talk with him and set him free," Gloria said, pausing with her hand on the door and giving her sister a meaningful look.

As most sisters are prone to do, Helen either didn't notice or completely disregarded the look.

"Can I come?"

"I want to talk with him, Helen," Gloria said pointedly.

"I want to talk to him too!" Helen said.

"I want to talk to him, _alone_," Gloria said.

"That's not fair," Helen said, pouting and appearing much younger than she was.

"Suck that lip in before you trip over it," Gloria quipped, laughing. "He'll be around. You can talk to him later."

"But I want to talk to him now!"

"He's _my frog_."

"If you're setting him free, he's nobody's frog."

"But right now he's mine. I'll talk to him before I set him free."

"Helen! Come get dressed for bed!"

Helen humphed and stalked away, leaving a relieved Gloria and a chuckling Thomas. She stepped out the back door and closed it behind her, sitting on the small porch. She opened the door of the cage and let Thomas hop out, settling into a more comfortable position.

"Thirsty?" she asked.

"A little," he admitted.

She pulled the door open and shouted inside.

"Jennifer!"

"What, Gloria?"

"Can I have a bowl of water, please?"

"You certainly have that ability."

"_May_ I?" she corrected, somewhat annoyed.

"One moment."

She closed the door again and faced Thomas.

"You know," he said, hopping onto her knee and sitting there, "if I recall correctly, the last words you said to me were something along the lines of, 'Go away and never come back.' You must have had a change of heart."

"Well, don't think I forgot that you're the one that started this whole mess," Gloria said, pausing as she took the bowl from Jennifer and set it down in her lap. She flicked water at him and glared.

"Why'd you buy me from the gypsies, then?" he said, undaunted by her glare and slipping into the clean water with a sigh.

"Because," she said lightly, "I've decided to forgive you."

"I didn't... ask you for forgiveness," Thomas said slowly, then realized that his words sounded rude. That he even thought about how someone else would think of what he said was proof that Thomas was beginning to change, but he didn't notice this, because Gloria had started to laugh. She had a nice laugh.

"I know," she chuckled, "but I still forgive you."

Thomas didn't say anything for a moment.

"How does that work?" he finally asked.

"I just forgave you. It's not a big deal," Gloria said, yawning, then changed the subject.

"So, where have you been? How did you end up with the gypsies?"

He retold his tale, borrowing some of the techniques he'd heard the gypsy storytellers use, and had Gloria in fits of laughter for a half-hour. She hardly noticed when Jennifer wrapped a blanket around her shoulders, or when her eyelids began to droop. When Thomas realized she wasn't listening anymore, he stopped talking.

He looked up at her face and cocked his head. He could have sworn that she used to be plain-looking, but now she seemed to be very pretty, in her own way. Her rather pudgy face looked sweet and endearing, and the straight nose was definite enough to keep her from looking too young. Those terrible freckles actually coordinated with her fiery personality, too. He shook his head.

Thankfully, an unexpected guest saved him from traveling too far down that road.

* * *

**That seems like a bit of an odd place to cut off, but it's already 2,595 words as of now, and if I go a mite farther, I'll be continuing for at least another 2 pages! So, what do you think of the chapter?**

FaylinnNorse**: He really shouldn't have talked to them. Our poor, naïve, froggie. --pats him on the head-- But, oh well! It ended well for him, didn't it? **

Mazkeraide**: You are amazing. I almost laughed myself silly at your review. I should have done that; it would have been brilliant.**

Nanami-Himuro**: I know – what a terrible name! Marvelo the Marvelous... ahh.**

Bingo7**: Mm, that does not sound pleasant. Ick. He is at that. (naïve, that is.)**

heartbroken807**: Thanks! I'm glad you're enjoying it! This isn't one of my best, though, honestly; it's more of a silly story on the side. You might enjoy some of my other ones too – like I Do, But That's It, or Not all Books Should Be Read. **

Pimpernel Princess**: Haha, I wouldn't pay money to be insulted by a frog either. I'm sure he started the trip in that fashion, but a few scrapes with death might have cured him of his smart tongue... --imagines Tom dangling Thomas by one leg over a boiling pot of water and can't help laughing--**

Forever Daydreaming**: It took him a while to realize that she's not all bad, but at least he's making up for lost time. --mischievous grin-- Thomas got a nice swift kick in the pants, and now he's turned out much less arrogant. It's amazing what a week or two in servitude will do to the lofty-minded. --laugh--**

bellathedisenchanted**: Thomas is sort of changing. Gloria was pretty helpful – more so than she probably realized. Wyn did a nice bit, too. And now Tom was part of the changing-Thomas-for-the-better crew. Everyone's just getting in on the fun! **

Drowning in Fire**: Thanks! I'm glad you like it. Soleil is my favorite, too, but don't tell the others; they'll get jealous. --grin--**

Falchion**: Marvelo was supreme humiliation! But, for once, he actually learned his lesson instead of pouting and saying he was too good for it. Huzzah!**

**Reviewers get one of those lollipops that are as big as your head. Whatever flavour you please!**


	16. Chapter 16

**13 . 2 . 09**

**Happy early V-day to those who like it, and my condolences and a box of chocolates to those who just glared daggers at me for even mentioning it. --nervous smile--**

**Can you believe that this is the next to last chapter? Me neither.**

* * *

Wyn lighted on the edge of the bowl, letting her feet dangle in the water.

"Lovely evening," she commented, ignoring Thomas's startled ribbit. "Any particular reason Gloria is sleeping outside?"

"My scintillating conversation put her to sleep," Thomas said, glancing up to see if she would wake up. She didn't.

"How was your stay with the gypsies?" Wyn asked. "Learn anything interesting?"

Thomas was about to answer when he looked at Wyn sharply.

She looked far too innocent.

"Did you learn anything?" she repeated.

Thomas opened his mouth, then closed it again.

"Lots," he finally answered.

Her answering smile confirmed his suspicions. Before he could ask her what, exactly, she did, Gloria woke up and saw the fairy.

"Wyn!"

Wyn almost fell into the bowl when Gloria jerked in surprise.

"Hello," Wyn said pleasantly, smiling. "Have a nice nap?"

Gloria was completely preoccupied with the sudden reappearance of her greatest hope for finding Alexis and Jared. As a result, she ignored the question entirely and started pleading with Wyn.

"Oh, Wyn! Please help us! Jared and Alexis have gone missing in the woods! Father says if they don't find them tomorrow then they're giving up. Already the search parties are getting smaller and smaller, and their families are already wearing black. The men say that they must have been killed by a wild animal or something..."

Tears were threatening to fall from her eyes, but she was doing her best not to cry. Thomas was startled; he was sure they had to have been found by now. He looked at Wyn, uncomfortably aware of Gloria's tears, but the fairy didn't look alarmed at all.

"I know," she said.

"You know?" Gloria echoed, taken aback.

"Yes, of course! Why did you think I came here tonight?"

They were silent. Neither of them had thought about that.

"Well, I've spent the last few weeks finding out what's happened to your friends," she said, kicking her feet in the water.

"What happened to them?" Gloria asked, hardly letting Wyn pause.

"There's a new sorceress in the wood," Wyn said, her face serious.

"Did she... kidnap them?" Gloria guessed, face screwing up in panic. "Are they alright? What is she doing to them?"

"Gloria, calm down," Thomas said, putting a wet, froggy foot on her knee. "Let her talk."

"That's easy for you to say! They're not your friends," Gloria said angrily.

"Jumping to conclusions isn't helping anything!" Thomas shot back, not very politely.

"You're right," Gloria said, taking a deep breath. "What did you find out, Wyn?"

Thomas took his hand off her knee and settled back into the water, thinking it odd that she'd listened to him.

"They were kidnapped," Wyn said slowly, "but I don't know very much else. She put up strong barriers, and I couldn't get very close without making my presence known. She's young, though – just a child. I don't know how she's so strong."

"A child? A girl?" Thomas said, wide-eyed with a sudden thought. "What did she look like?"

"I'm not sure," Wyn said, examining him with narrowed eyes. "Slight, with pale skin and dark eyes. Do you know many sorceresses, froggie?"

"Was she wearing a shapeless dress?" Thomas asked.

"Yes," Wyn said, smiling at the strange question. "Do you know her?"

"Soleil?" he said aloud, disbelieving of his own discovery. "Surely she couldn't—no—but—"

"How else could she have turned you into a frog?" Gloria asked slowly. "I don't think that's something you can just put in a bottle and pour on someone."

"Shape-changing magic – no," Wyn agreed, looking interested. "The princess turned you into a frog?"

"My sister," Thomas corrected. "I have to stop her."

"You? Why you? Why not Wyn, or the other fairies?" Gloria asked, a little self-conscious when she noticed the hint of worry in her own voice.

"Fairies avoid sorcerers and sorceresses," Wyn said flatly. "We don't get along, so we avoid each other. If you want your friends back, Gloria, you'll have to go plead with her yourself."

"No," Thomas said, too quickly. "You can't. She won't listen to you."

"What makes you think she'll listen to you? You were absolutely horrid to her," Gloria challenged.

"She's _my_ sister! Not yours!"

"What does that have to do with anything?" Gloria said, crossing her arms.

"Nothing!" Thomas said in frustration. "I just don't want you to go!"

"Why?" Gloria demanded.

"Because I don't want her to hurt you!" he shouted.

"I think I can take care of myself," Gloria huffed, but her cheeks reddened a little. "Besides, she probably just needs some girl-talk."

"You don't know my sister," Thomas said with a dry laugh.

"No, Thomas. _You_ don't know your sister," Gloria said, voice quiet as she leaned down so her face was on level with his. "You never listened to her. She's a wonderful girl, but you ruined her life."

"Then maybe I need to make it right," Thomas said softly, holding her gaze.

The night was quiet around them, and Gloria saw something in his eyes that she never thought she'd see: regret, and hurt. Thomas was sorry for what he'd done to his sister, and he wanted to apologize to her. Thomas the Arrogant, Thomas the Selfish, Thomas the Ruthless – he was offering to save Jared and Alexis, two people he hardly knew, possibly at risk of his own life, and simultaneously apologize to his little sister. It was too much to take in.

"But," he said with a deep breath, looking down at himself, "I suppose I _can_ face her this way, but it would take me longer to find them, and I can't ask either of you to carry me. Would you—?"

"I can't," Gloria said, dropping her eyes to her hands and sitting up.

He didn't question her, just said turned to Wyn.

"Wyn?"

"I would," Wyn said slowly, "but, you know how it is, with the whole humans-kiss-a-fairy-and-are-forever-enslaved thing. I _could_ get around that, but it would take entirely too much effort."

There was a heavy silence.

"Gloria, please," Thomas said, turning back to Gloria and trying to catch her eyes. "I promise I won't tell anyone, if that's what you want."

"It's not that, Thomas. It's just—"

She bit her lip. She didn't know what it was. She looked into the big black eyes staring into hers. Then, he looked away.

"Alright."

He managed a froggish smile, then crawled out of the bowl and hopped off the porch.

"You're going now?" Gloria asked, putting the bowl down and standing up.

"Why not?" Thomas said, turning around. "I won't be able to sleep, thinking of my sister in a little witch's cottage – though, I have to say, the image fits her. Don't worry. I'll have Jared and Alexis back in no time."

Gloria watched him go, pulling the blanket closer around her. Her face was screwed up in indecision and her mind was racing. Suddenly, she dropped the blanket and ran after him. Kneeling, she grabbed him mid-hop and held him up to her face.

"I want you back in no time, too," she whispered to him, then kissed him chastely on the lips.

In an instant, he slid from her hand and was standing before her on the ground, a tall, handsome boy of seventeen. He reached out a hand and pulled her to her feet. His mouth was spread in a wide smile, and his icy blue eyes sparkled.

"I love my thumbs," he muttered under his breath, flexing his hands experimentally. He looked down at her and clasped her hand between his.

"Thank you, Gloria," he said, and kissed her on the cheek. Then, without another word, he turned around and stumbled and walked, regaining the swing of his gait, toward the forest.

"Not a bad looking chap," Wyn said, hovering over Gloria's shoulder, "for someone who was just a frog. Little wonder he had a big head. He's very nice looking indeed. Though he'd look better with a shave. And he really should have some proper clothes, instead of pajamas. Should I fix that for him?"

Gloria had a hand over her mouth, hardly believing what she'd just done; her mind was somewhere else entirely. Wyn shrugged and waved her hands, biting on the edge of her green tongue.

Thomas realized he was wearing his silken nightclothes just before they were replaced with a much more practical hunting-type outfit, like the ones the nobles wore.

The result of his discovery was the beginning of an exclamation, a pause in which he tried to figure out if his eyes were playing tricks on him (in his experience clothing didn't often seem to change form in front of his eyes), and the consequent tripping over a root, since his eyes were otherwise engaged.

"Are you going to let him go alone, in such a state?" Wyn asked, chuckling, as Thomas fell quite ungracefully onto the grass in front of the woods.

The image of Prince Thomas on the ground broke her from her stupor. Laughing, Gloria jogged to his side and offered a hand. He took it, laughing, and she helped him to his feet.

"I'm coming with you," she informed him.

"Gloria," Thomas said warningly, but Gloria was not to be deterred.

"Thomas, you can't even walk in a straight line. You need me."

As he opened his mouth to protest, their eyes met, and Gloria knew that he wanted her to come, and not just because he needed a crutch. She put a hand over his mouth, his scraggly stubble tickling her fingers.

"Don't argue," she said. "It's true."

With a mischievous smile, she took his hand and led the way into the woods.

* * *

**Ta da! Thomas hath returneth! In need of a shave, but, well, we can forgive him for not taking time to shave when there are people's lives at stake. This time. --smile-- Opinions on the transformation? Wyn? Gloria? Thomas?**

Mazkeraide**: You did? Is it more embarrassing that I didn't notice? Heh. (Wow, that is odd. I'm pretty sure she just thought you were spelling-deprived, like 99% of America. --chuckle--) It was a fantastic theory. Sorry. You were scarily accurate on part of your theory this time, though, with Soleil kidnapping them. And the conveniently-clothed part, but I tried to redeem myself by putting him in what he was wearing when he was transformed. Too bad Gloria was too much in shock to make fun of his blue silk nighties. Ah, well.**

Pimpernel Princess**: Isn't that odd, how he doesn't know how forgiveness works? But, he never bothered to use it, the annoying little ragamuffin. --ruffles hair fondly-- Gloria has gone a long way, mostly without her knowledge, in making him a better person. Cadmus thanks you for the tea, which I think is rich, since he never thanks me for anything. --glare at said dragon--**

Bingo7**: Heh, I'm not sure what I would have done. I'm a bit of a penny-pincher myself. But, despite Gloria's fiery attitude sometimes, she really is a sweetie. --smile-- Friends! Huzzah!**

Nanami-Himuro**: I hope you liked this chapter, too! Thanks for reviewing!**

**Reviewers get a pack of Candy Hearts or a box of chocolates, whichever you like!**


	17. Chapter 17

**18 . 2 . 09**

**This is the last 'chapter', so I hope you enjoy it! Thanks!**

**Disclaimer: Has a spoiler in it. See the end for the disclaimer.**

* * *

When Thomas and Gloria had reached the darkest part of the wood, Soleil appeared out of nowhere, arms akimbo and glaring.

"So, I see you found a wench to kiss you," she said without glancing at Gloria.

"I believe you remember Lady Monterio," Thomas said through clenched teeth. "It's on her account that I'm here."

"You expect me to believe you're here because of her?" Soleil asked, raising her eyebrows. "I know why you're here – you want revenge."

She looked at Gloria for the first time.

"I thought you smart enough to see my brother for what he is: a conceited, pig-headed _brat._"

"All I want is Gloria's friends back," Thomas said in a low voice.

"And what are you going to do, exactly, if I say no?" she asked, a smile twitching at the corner of her mouth.

Thomas didn't have an answer. She smiled, a cruel smile that made Gloria shiver. It was a smile too cold for one so young.

"Then, it seems you're at a disadvantage, dear brother. For instance, I could kill you, with hardly a thought."

She lifted a hand, and Gloria felt a breeze tickle her ear. Thomas grabbed his throat, choking.

"Stop it, Soleil!" Gloria screamed. "This isn't who you are!"

"Isn't it?" Soleil asked, dropping her hand carelessly.

Thomas gasped a breath.

"No, it's not." Gloria said, stepping forward. "You're a sweet, ambitious girl who can do anything she wants to do. Stop doing magic and go home; you're only hurting yourself."

"No!" Soleil yelled, suddenly livid. "There is _nothing_ for me there. My parents want to marry me off and get me out of the way. They only care about my brother, who is going to be king. All I have to look forward to is being someone's trophy wife, giving him children, and keeping my head down."

"That's not your only choice," Gloria said. "You can explain to your parents—"

"I've tried!" Soleil cried, stamping her foot. Something like a tear glimmered in her eye. "They just laughed and told me to stop being silly."

"Thomas could talk to them for you," Gloria suggested. "Maybe they'll listen to him."

Soleil laughed meanly.

"I don't know what he's been telling you, Gloria, but in all thirteen years of my life, I've never seen him do a thing for anyone else. Not a _thing._ Not even to tell the other children to stop picking on me. Not even to let me have a _chance_ with—"

She growled, and the tear slipped down her cheek. She looked like a broken-hearted child, then, and Gloria wanted to run up and hug her. Thomas, who had been staying quiet, finally spoke up. Gloria noted that his voice was much fuller now than it had been as a frog – it was more authoritative and sincere, though the sincerity might not have been due merely to his physical change.

"Soleil," he said slowly, taking a few steps forward. "I know I've—been terrible, but—"

"Shut _up!"_ she shouted. "Don't give me that trash! It may work on your adoring politicians, but not on me."

"I'm sorry, for everything," he said abruptly, looking at her steadily, as if trying to convince her he was serious with his eyes.

She stared into his eyes, and he flinched at the hatred shooting out of that gaze.

"I _don't_ forgive you," she said venomously. "It's too late for apologies, Thomas. I know who you are. No fake apology is going to make me go back to that terrible place I was supposed to call home, to live out the rest of my life with that terrible person I was supposed to call my _brother."_

Thomas let his chin drop, and his unruly dark waves covered his face. He hadn't been expecting her to forgive him, not really, but he'd hoped that somehow, she'd...

Gloria slid her hand into his and squeezed it gently, assuring him that he'd done what he could do.

"Aw, how sweet," Soleil said nastily. "You two remind me of the other two lovebirds."

"Jared and Alexis," Gloria said, looking up at Soleil. She'd almost forgotten her friends. "Give them back."

"I'd be glad to," Soleil said, smiling without warning – it was not a pleasant smile. "If you can find them."

She turned around and began walking into the woods, all lost dignity regained. She was in charge now, and everyone knew it. Gloria and Thomas didn't have much choice but to follow her. They walked for several minutes, the wood growing darker with every step. She soon came to a house that looked like it was made of living trees, somehow fitted next to each other with barely a gap between the trunks and branches.

They curved out in some places to make small windows, and there was a roughly cut wooden door in another large gap, attached to the tree's trunk with strips of rope or leather. She opened the door and gestured inside.

"Good luck," she said, moving aside to let them through.

"I'll go first," Thomas said quietly, letting go of Gloria's hand and stepping through the doorway.

Gloria half expected something terrible to happen, and her heart clenched, but Thomas waved her in a moment later with a worried 'Oh' of a sigh. When she, too, entered, she saw the reason for his laconic comment. Hundreds of birds were crammed into the small house, flying around, lighting on things, and squawking at each other.

"When I said love_birds_, I meant that literally," Soleil said, walking in behind them and clasping her hands together in a strikingly childish gesture. "You have two minutes, or I'll add you two to my collection."

"Are these all—people?" Gloria asked, horror-struck.

"Some of them," Soleil said, smiling at her disgust. "There are one or two others – villagers or gypsies that wandered too close."

Gloria stared at the mass of beaks and feathers, trying to see anything that would give her a clue. Somewhere in this room were Jared and Alexis, and other scared people. But how could they tell the people from the birds?

"Jared? Alexis?" she called.

"They only speak and hear bird, now," Soleil said, reaching out to pluck a bluebird from the air and stroking it. "They can't understand you, poor things. One minute left."

"They'd, uh, stick together!" Thomas said. "Look for two birds that stay together."

"But what about the others?" Gloria said, grabbing his arm. "We can't just leave them!"

"We can only do what we can," Thomas said, putting his hand over her hers. "Maybe they'll all be together. But come on, we need to look."

With a strained expression, Gloria began looking around for two birds that stayed together. After a few seconds, it became apparent that there was more than one pair of birds in the room. Gloria began to panic, but Thomas took a deep breath and tried another tack.

"If you were in a room full of people you didn't know, what would you be doing?"

"If I was Alexis, I'd be hiding on the edge somewhere, and if I was Jared, I'd be with Alexis," she said, running for the table. "Look on the top of the shelves. I'll look underneath things."

She ducked under the table as Soleil calmly said,

"Half a minute."

All the birds under there were squawking and flapping, same as the rest, so she jumped to her feet, flailing her arms in front of her face as birds flew in front of her. She spied a dresser and dropped to her knees so fast that her knees ached. Turning her head sideways, she groped in the dusty darkness beneath it, yelping when something pecked her, hard. She grabbed the first warm, feathery body and pulled it out. A white dove cooed in alarm and tried to wiggle free, but she kept a firm hold on it as she reached in further. Something pecked her again, and she heard Soleil start to count backwards lackadaisically.

"Ten... nine... eight..."

"Thomas! I can't get him out!" she shouted, heart in her throat. "Blast it, Jared!"

"Seven..."

"What?" Thomas said, waving birds away from his face and knocking his head on the ceiling.

"I think I found Jared, but I can't get him out!" she screamed, reaching as far as she could and earning a peck for her trouble.

"Five..."

He was just too far back. The dove – which she assumed was Alexis – was struggling frantically in her other hand, and she almost let got of her twice.

"Four... three..."

Thomas pulled her off the floor and flung his longer arms underneath the dresser, drawing out a rather large pigeon that was making a loud ruckus.

"Two..."

He shoved the pigeon into Gloria's hands and stared into the confusion for a moment. Gloria was about to ask him what he was doing, but then he held out his hand in the midst of it, and a showy red cardinal landed on it.

"Time's up."

Smiling, he wrapped his hands around it and followed Gloria to stand in front of Soleil.

"Her name is Gabrielle, and she's a gypsy," Thomas said flatly. "She's fourteen, spunky, and all too curious. Her favorite color is red, and she likes frogs. I found her. Change her back."

Soleil didn't look at him, drilling Gloria with her eyes instead.

"Those are your friends?" she asked.

"Yes," she said with confidence, holding onto them with difficulty.

"Are you sure? If you're wrong, you'll get turned into a bird, too."

"That wasn't part of the deal," Thomas said.

"I'm the one with the magic," Soleil reminded him.

"I'm sure," Gloria said, hoping she was.

Even though it made sense that these two would be her friends – even down to the types of birds they were – it was hard not to doubt herself when her own humanity depended on her being right. Soleil stared at her, hard, for a moment, then sighed and grabbed the two birds from Gloria. With a kiss on the head, Jared and Alexis were standing in front of her, none the worse for the wear, though looking a bit confused. When they saw Gloria, they both shrieked and hugged her fiercely, babbling about something, but Gloria wasn't paying attention.

"And Gabrielle?" Thomas said, holding out the complacent cardinal to his perturbed sister.

"She wasn't part of the deal," Soleil snapped.

"Soleil, please," he said.

"You never did anything for me. Why should I do anything for you?" she hissed.

"Just kiss her on the head – it doesn't have to be the witch," Jared said, following Gloria's eyes to the interaction happening behind him. He still had an arm around Alexis, but he was staring at Thomas oddly, obviously trying to puzzle out who he was.

Thomas kissed the cardinal on the head, and a teenage girl appeared in front of him, squealing.

"I knew it!" she shouted, jumping up and hugging him around the neck. "Marvelo!"

"Gabrielle," he said, hugging her and laughing. "I knew it had to be you. You're the only one dumb enough to go inspecting a witch's hut."

She punched his chest fondly.

"You looked better as a frog."

While Gabrielle and Thomas were having their interaction, Alexis was asking Gloria how she had found them and thanking her a hundred times for not giving up. It was then that Jared pointed out that they were no longer in Soleil's house, but on a path near the edge of the wood. Alexis barely heard him in her insistence to know how Gloria had found them.

"I had a little help," Gloria said, wiping her eyes which were streaming tears of relief and happiness.

"I should say so!" Jared said, finally letting go of Alexis and looking Thomas up and down. "Has anyone ever told you that you're the spitting image of Prince Thomas?" he asked him.

"Actually, no," Thomas said wryly, waving to Gabrielle as she ran back to her encampment.

Gloria rolled her eyes and rubbed Alexis's back.

"Really?" Jared said in surprise. "Because you are. Could be his twin."

"Jared, that _is_ Prince Thomas," Gloria informed him.

"Good glory be," Jared said, bowing hastily. "Then I'm much indebted to you for rescuing us – I mean, more than I already am, with taxes and such—"

"Jared," Alexis said pointedly.

Gloria was surprised; it seemed Alexis had learned to interrupt Jared if she wanted to say anything. _Bravo,_ Gloria thought.

"Thank you, Prince Thomas," she said very softly, giving her best curtsy.

"I owe you an apology, Lady Carter," he said, bowing too.

"Whatever for?" she asked, eyes widening.

"Do you remember the obnoxious frog that harangued you that morning?"

"How did you—"

"That was me," he said. "I was insufferable and insensitive, and for that, I apologize."

"You were... a frog?" she said, wrinkling her nose in confusion. "Did you get on the wrong side of the witch?"

"I did," he said, but persisted in his earlier question. "Will you forgive me?"

"Well, of course," she said, looking a little scared at the prospect of not accepting the Crown Prince's apology.

"Prince Thomas, eh?" Jared said, walking up to him and folding his arms.

"That's right," Thomas said, holding his ground and looking straight into Jared's eyes; they were exactly the same height.

Neither one said anything for a moment.

"Well, that explains why you look like him, then," Jared said, turning away and looping his arm through Alexis's. "And now, let's go home. I, for one, miss my mother's cooking. Even though it's not really _her _cooking, since she doesn't cook—"

"How did you both end up with the sorceress, anyway?" Gloria asked, following them along the path.

They began to tell it in turns, interrupting each other good naturedly every few sentences with a clarification or miscellaneous detail. It seemed that Alexis had ridden into the wood and gotten lost, and that's when Soleil had found her. Jared, however, had intentionally ridden into the heart of the wood, calling for Alexis the whole while. Soleil had gotten so irritated with his repetition that she'd found him and turned him into a bird worthy of his annoyance and general uselessness – a pigeon.

Gloria was laughing at the two of them, marveling at the much more vivacious version of Alexis she now saw in front of her, when she noticed that Thomas hadn't said much. She looked over at him, and his eyes betrayed his inattention. He was thinking about what had just happened with Soleil, no doubt.

"You did what you could," Gloria said quietly, keeping an eye on the two of her friends who were in a friendly banter about what time of day it had been when Gabrielle was turned into a cardinal. "She had to make her choice."

He nodded, then smiled with some effort.

"Thanks for coming with me. I did need you. If I was by myself she might have just killed me."

"I don't think she would have killed you, but you're welcome," Gloria said, smiling. "However, let's not make a habit of this, alright? One adventure is enough for me."

"Agreed," he chuckled. "Being a frog isn't as much fun as you would think."

"So how'd you get turned into a frog, anyway?" Jared asked.

"Well..." Thomas started, and his story lasted all the way out of the wood, at which point they all bolted, laughing, for Gloria's house.

The sun was just beginning to rise as the four friends ran into the house, scaring Jennifer silly.

* * *

**What did you think of the confrontation? The birds? The end? Don't worry – there's an epilogue where Gloria and Thomas get their happily-ever-after. --smile--**

**Disclaimer: Turning Jared into a pigeon was all **Lobuck**'s idea, though I'm sure she meant it in jest at the time...**

FaylinnNorse**: I hope the meeting was interesting enough for you. --smile--**

Nanami-Himuro**: Well, what did you think? Thanks for reviewing!**

Mazkeraide**: True, you did that. Oh, that was one of my favorite parts about **_**Hitchhiker's**_**. How brilliant! That would be a very useful plot twist...**

Pimpernel Princess**: I'm sure St. Valentine doesn't mind. --chuckle-- Yes, I should take it up with him. --gives Cadmus a look from where he's sulking in the Self Pity corner-- Well, I couldn't have him show up naked, unfortunately. (Although that would be funny.) It would ruin my blissful fairy-tale style. I did, however, make it somewhat allowable by having him transformed into a human with the same clothes on that he had on when he was turned into a frog. Do I halfway redeem myself for that one? "Prickly"?! You had me in stitches over that one! I don't think I've actually heard that terminology before. I might have to use it. Teehee; I'm glad you liked that line about his thumbs. That little bit of the chapter was actually written a while ago in a fit of inspiration, so I just had to dredge it up and change a few things to make it flow. Things written in a fit of inspiration are often very useful.**

Falchion**: Heh, that sounds like something I would do. (Forgetting the second chapter.) What did you think of Thomas and Soleil's interaction?**

Eva**: Yay! Review 100! Wow, 100 already? That's crazy. I didn't even notice. This goes to show how observant I am **_**not. **_**How Wyn was involved shall remain a mystery. Sorry, but I like it that way. Feel free to speculate as you wish; there are a multitude of plausible explanations. Soleil and Gloria weren't 'friends' so much as Gloria was willing to listen to her. They really only met that one time and didn't keep in touch. Soleil being Soleil, she wouldn't really listen to anyone – but, Gloria probably had a better shot at convincing her than Thomas did, as she wasn't ever an arrogant jerk. (That generally gives people brownie points.)**

**That leads somewhat directly into your next major point: Thomas's shift is not believable. I agree. It isn't. However, that's the kind of story I was endeavoring to write – the one where everything works out, even if it's a little 'too good to be true'. It's a different approach to a story than what I generally do (because I like having realism in my stories) but it was a good exercise. Perhaps I didn't make it surreal enough up to this point; if that's the issue, I apologize. But, this has been my plan from the beginning. It was a silly little cliché fairy tale that would be much shorter than anything else I write. The people would start out too mean, learn too quickly, and end up perfect. **

**However, knowing what's to come in Nasap gives this silly story a darker side; we know that whatever 'change' happened to Thomas here was not completely permanent, or at least not weather-worthy. So the irrational change of heart here is a question mark for the readers to chew on. Was he faking a change of heart to win Gloria? Did he have a change of heart and it failed in time? Was his change of heart something done on a whim that crumpled with the first trial? Gloria's character in Nasap is so changed from her fiery spirit here that it would not be hard to assume any of those things. I hope that explains where I'm coming from a bit better. I might have gotten overzealous in previous chapters and reverted to my usual style – perhaps I should read it through again and dumb it down a little more, to fit with the silly mood. What do you think?**

**Reviewers get a slice of end-of-fic cake! Thanks for reviewing, everyone!**


	18. Chapter 18

**20 . 2 . 09**

**Enjoy the epilogue! The beginning is so cliché that it took convincing to get me to post it, but I do like the very end.**

**Also: if you've read my oneshot **_**Daggers and Peas**_** (kudos to **Captain**) then you'll know what I mean when I say I had trouble keeping the narrator out of my epilogue in this story. Heh.**

* * *

When the prince returned from his alleged quest, he seemed like a completely different person. Rumors of his strange disappearance swept through the kingdom, but no one had seen him at all, and he didn't ever mention it. There were, of course, people who claimed they'd seen him here or there, but after an initial thrill of curiosity, those people, too, disappeared from the public eye, and his quest was nearly forgotten.

He was so considerate and polite, genuinely so, that some people suspected magic was at work. When that word reached Thomas's ear, he laughed, but made no motion to confirm or deny it. His assistant, Tyvome, was so startled at the change that he almost fell over when Thomas greeted him with a, "Good morning!" and a smile.

The kingdom was in such an uproar over his disappearance and sudden return that people hardly gave a thought to Soleil, who had gone missing at the same time. Prince Robert of Molln commented on it, but Thomas closed the conversation, and nothing more was said about it, except for around taverns on stormy nights, when all other gossip had gone dry. Wild stories of seeing the princess in the wood, with a barn owl perched on her shoulder, were generally discounted.

A month after Thomas arrived back at the palace, his mother threw him a birthday ball, though it was a bit late; he had turned seventeen while he was a frog without realizing it. It was widely thought that the Prince would be announcing his engagement at the ball – though to whom, no one knew. A week before the ball, he took a cross-country trip to the Monterio estate.

"You already bought me out of slavery," he said to the flabbergasted Jethro, a scant ten minutes after his arrival there – just enough time to wash his face and brush the dust from his clothes, "but I have another boon to ask you."

"Anything," Jethro said immediately; Gloria had already told him the entire story, and he thanked his lucky stars that the Prince didn't seem to remember the reluctance with which the money was paid.

"I would like permission to court your daughter, with the intention of marriage," Thomas said, unable to keep himself from smiling.

"Are you sure, my prince?" Jethro said, taken aback. "I mean, she isn't exactly of a... court—approved nature. My liege."

"There is no one else I would even consider spending the rest of my life with," Thomas said, looking down at his hands. "She brings out the best in me."

Jethro considered the boy in front of him for a few seconds.

"You have my permission, my prince. She's out riding with Master Tiroe, but they'll be back soon."

There was a brief awkward pause before Jethro broke the silence.

"What do you think of Molln's alliance with Yerc?" he asked, and the discussion flowed well over pleasantly easy political subjects until they heard a door open downstairs.

"That's her," Jethro said as Thomas stood up, looking suddenly nervous.

"I'll – I'll go meet her, then," he said, swallowing and dusking out of the room quickly.

He ran into Gloria, who was just coming up the stairs, and almost knocked her backward.

"Prince Thomas!" she squeaked, curtsying so hastily that she nearly fell over again.

Her grass was grass-stained and dusty, and her hair was all but completely free of the braid. She pushed it behind her shoulder.

"'Prince Thomas'? When did you start calling me 'Prince' again?"

"When you started deserving it," she said with a grin. "I've been paying attention to politics – some of these laws you're passing actually sound like they're going to be helpful. Jared's siblings are upset about your mandatory education movement, but I think it's excellent. I know a lot of townsfolk who can't afford private tutors, and they're singing your praises."

"Thank you," he said, smiling at her compliment. "I'm glad you like the laws, but I think I prefer just 'Thomas'. I got used to it, and I like it."

"Alright then, Thomas; why are you here? You didn't tell me you were coming back for a visit."

"I actually have a question," he said, and the easy smile darted off his face.

"Isn't that why you have advisers?" she pointed out, smiling to let him know it was a tease.

He smiled a little, but not much. Gloria wondered what was wrong.

"You could have sent another letter," she suggested. "The Crown Prince doesn't have time to go riding halfway across Ladyra just to ask me a question."

"It was something I had to do in person," he said, taking her hand.

Her cheeks flushed, but she held his gaze.

"Gloria, would you—would you consider—will you court me?"

"Thomas," she whispered, eyes wide.

"Is that a... yes? Or a no?" Thomas said, after giving her ample time to respond.

"Well, yes, of course!" she cried, flinging her arms around his neck.

He put his arms around her and kissed her cheek, beaming. Both of them were dirty and sweaty and smelled a bit like horse, but neither of them cared.

* * *

_Princess Nre,_

_Happy 9__th__ birthday!_

_I know most authors write their notes at the beginning, but I thought that was silly. Wouldn't it make more sense to put it at the end so I can say anything I like and not give the story away? But that's not what I'm writing to you about, and my husband is grumphing about dinner, so I'd better get to the point._

_I hope you enjoyed the story! I thought you might like to read a different version of the story than your parents or the courtiers might tell you, and you can always look back through this one in case you forget one thing or another! You might be asking now if it's real, since no one has ever mentioned your father being a frog before. And how, you may demand, do I know, anyway, if he never talked about it?_

_Those, my dear, are very good questions indeed._

_I know it is true, because I've made friends with a fairy or two, and the tale of King Thomas' indignant march through the woods and ordering a fairy about is one of their favorite tales. Wyn herself helped me get the facts straight, though I might have embroidered a few things (alright, more than a few things) to make them less dull._

_(Do not go about making friends with fairies, Princess. I know that may seem fun, but it's really quite dangerous. I can see you pouting already, but if you get yourself in a stitch I won't be blamed for it.)_

_I'll see you in time, my dear, though perhaps not until you are grown. Fidoglio likes it up in the north, and he has become crotchety and unmovable in his old age of twenty-two. Don't grow too much while I'm not there to see it._

—_Mrs. Irene Fidolgio_

* * *

**And now it's over. So the whole story was written by Fidoglio's wife, hm? Hmm... Thoughts?**

**Thanks for sticking with it, my faithful readers and reviewers. I know it isn't nearly as good as my others, but it was a little break. For being a break, though, Cadmus surely pitched fits about the shallow characters. My muse apparently doesn't like vacations... ah well. Special thanks to **Cimh** for giving Gloria her personality. And special thanks to those who tried to make the story better (**EVA**, **Mazzie**, and others) because it warms my heart to know that if I start writing ridiculous junk you lovelies won't let me stray too far from the path.**

Bingo7**: Solace is nice. Maybe I should write a story called "Solace for Soleil"! ...--cricket--... I was kidding. Honestly. Ahem, moving on: as for checking out Nasap, you really don't have to. Heh. --shoves Nasap in a dark corner-- After I finish Jab, I think rewriting Nasap is going to be my next project. I promise it will be interesting, though, because after fleshing out Gloria and Thomas and Jared in this story, I think I'll add a bit more of them into Nasap, and perhaps give Iriana a cameo appearance...? So, it won't just be strictly rewriting, it will also have bonus nuggets of newness.**

Nanami-Himuro**: Thanks! You might see Soleil again at some point... who knows... --smile--**

Mazkeraide**: That's the name of the story! Oh, Mazzie; you're a doll. I lost my fairy tale book, and I remembered the general gist of the story and some miscellaneous facts, but I couldn't remember what it was called to look it up. Thank you so much! What changed? That's the current mystery; did he mean it? Was he faking it to get Gloria? Did he mean it, but it won't last? Or is the simplicity of the story simply abridging other crucial, if not fairy-tale-worthy, events? Hmm...**

Pimpernel Princess**: The dark side doesn't have cookies, but they do have... birds? --chuckle-- Yummy! Robin pie! I'm not sure what happened to them... --resolutely ignores Cadmus' macabre paintings of birds meeting grisly ends-- Haha, your suggestion would have been perfect, except that Carvin is Jared's son. So, no dice there. Unless Jared was also turned into a frog... teehee. What? Are you bringing up Jab in a review of NAPAN? Isn't the bad form or something? --wink-- I don't mind. Sure, I'll update soon. Um, I think. --wrinkles forehead and tries to remember if she has that chapter ready to go or not-- I think thinking up the epilogue (or at least the last part) has dragged Caddy out of the corner, thank heavens. It definitely isn't a good place for storytelling.**

EVA**: Good; I am glad you're satisfied. I had a feeling that might do it. --smile-- Yes, I've been in that position and seen other people in that position as well. Unfortunately. --laughs delightedly-- Don't add Soleil to your prayer list... no. --chuckle--**

**Reviewers get a slice of end-of-fic cake! Thanks for reviewing, everyone!**


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